Don't Blink
by rosewarren
Summary: An AU story. What if Rose stayed with the Doctor through Doomsday? What will they do stuck in 1969 without the TARDIS? A reworking of Blink, from season three.
1. Chapter 1

"When it starts, just hold on tight," the Doctor said. "Shouldn't be too bad for us but the Daleks and the Cybermen are steeped in Void stuff. Are you ready?"

Rose took her magna clamp and got into position beside one of the levers. The Doctor did the same on the other side. Rose glanced out the window, nervous.

"So are they," she said as Daleks appeared in the window.

"Let's do it!" the Doctor said, and they both pushed the levers up and then hurried to grab their clamps.

_"Online,"_ said the computer.

The room filled with a white light. This time a strong wind blew, strong enough to suck the Daleks in through the window. They flew through the air, among broken glass, getting pulled into the bright light and back to the Void. Rose ducked her head to try and keep from getting hit by one of them.

"The breach is open!" the Doctor shouted. "Into the Void! Ha!"

He and Rose held on tightly, struggling to keep their grips.

Cybermen suddenly joined the Daleks flying through the air. They were all shrieking, trying to get away but powerless to help themselves.

Rose shared a happy smile with the Doctor. It was working! He couldn't have done this without her - she was right to come back to him. Her attention pulled away from the Doctor as sparks began to fly. Rose looked behind her, at the lever that suddenly moved to the 'off' position again.

"_Offline," _said the computer.

The pull from the Void started to ease up. If the lever wasn't fixed it would stop completely, leaving Daleks and Cybermen in this world. Rose tried to reach the lever, but it was too far from her grasp. She strained closer to it, losing her grip on the clamp and falling onto the lever. The Doctor watched in dread.

"Be careful," he said, and it seemed like such a useless thing to say.

"I've gotta get it upright!" Rose cried, even as she tried not to cry out in fear. With an extreme effort, she pushed the lever back upwards, locking it into place with a groan. She let out her breath in relief.

The Doctor could only watch, horrified. He had no way to help her, and now the only thing Rose had to hold on to was the lever. She could not let go and reach for the clamp without falling into the Void herself.

_"Online and locked,"_ confirmed the computer, and the flow of Daleks and Cybermen began to increase again.

"Rose, hold on!" the Doctor shouted in desperation.

She tried, clutching with her fingers. But the pull of the Void was too great. She cried out at the effort to keep her fingers wrapped around the lever when all the power of the Void was directed at pulling her away from it.

"Hold on!" the Doctor roared. He reached out for her, but there was nothing he could do. Daleks and Cybermen flew by, getting sucked in and vanishing. He couldn't take his eyes off of Rose as she struggled.

"Don't let go," he chanted. "Hold on, don't let go, don't let go! Rose!"

Rose slipped, caught herself, slipped again and caught herself again. The pull of the Void was too great. She held on as hard as she could.

"Hold on!" the Doctor yelled again. "Rose!"

Her fingers slipped. She caught herself and continued to hold on, desperate now.

"No!" he screamed. "No!" For an instant his fingers loosened on the clamp, the instinct to reach for Rose stronger than the instinct to preserve his own life.

The flow of monsters began to slow. Rose scrabbled for a grip and found one, holding on despite the pull that helped her suspended in the air.

They were going to make it, the Doctor dared to think. It was going to work.

Rose lost her grip on the lever. The wind sucked her toward the Void. She screamed as she fell, and the Doctor could only hold on and watch.

"No! Rose! Nooo!"

She kept falling toward the white light, his scream in her ears, and he could not take his eyes away. She was going to disappear right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do.

"No!"

The Void closed abruptly, a mere moment before Rose hit the shiny white wall. The impact was loud and painful. From the point on the wall she fell to the floor in a heap.

The Doctor was there beside her before she could take a breath.

"Rose!" He knelt over her, forcing her face up to his.

She coughed, sore everywhere from hitting a wall and then falling several meters to the floor.

"Did it work?" she wheezed. Her body ached everywhere, and she couldn't move her fingers.

He nodded, unable to trust his voice. "They're gone."

"Mum? Mickey?"

"Safe on the other side."

Rose slowly got to her feet, somewhat unsteady. He held onto her arm. Turning, she looked at the wall, touched it. Her mother and father were on the other side.

She was on this side.

She'd never see Jackie again.

She turned to the Doctor. "We saved the universe?"

"Yeah. We did."

She closed her eyes and collapsed against him. He held her tightly as she cried.

* * *

They walked down through Torchwood Tower hand in hand, trying to ignore the dead bodies. They found the TARDIS and he unlocked the door, holding it open for Rose, who still looked shellshocked.

She paused and looked around the room where the TARDIS had been standing.

"All of this," she said quietly. "All of this was meant to..." Her voice faltered.

"Come on," he said quietly. "We need to leave."

"What's gonna happen?"

"They'll rebuild. It will be all right."

Rose allowed him to usher her inside. He sat her down on the jumpseat and began working controls.

"My mum is gone," she said in wonder. "I won't ever see her again."

He didn't lie to her.

"Is there any way," she started. "Any way we could go to her?"

"You want to go back?" He tried not to let too much pain enter his voice. She just risked her life to stay with him after he sent her away with her mother - and now she wanted to go to Jackie after all?

"She needs to know that I'm all right."

"She knows," he said briefly.

"How?"

He landed the TARDIS, ignoring her demand. "Come on."

She followed him unquestioningly, trusting him to keep her safe.

"The flat?" she said in surprise.

His face was grim. "Your mother is gone. Sooner or later someone will come looking for her. She'll be assumed dead." Rose winced at this but he continued.

"If there's anything left here, anything you want..."

Rose nodded.

He stood there, hands in his pockets, watching as she moved around the flat. She picked up framed photos and photo albums, and went into Jackie's room to take a few of Jackie's more precious jewelry - her wedding ring and small gifts that Pete had given her.

The Doctor followed silently, taking the things from her arms and carrying them back to her room in the TARDIS for her.

Rose stared out the window. The estate was slowly showing signs of life as people began to move about. She could see bodies strewn on the ground. The Doctor stepped up behind her, standing close enough to touch as he looked out from above her head.

"This is just so awful," she said quietly. She turned to look up at him. "All of it, it's all Torchwood's fault."

"I tried to stop them," the Doctor said quietly. "They wouldn't listen. They were so convinced that what they were doing was for the good of England."

Rose shook her head and looked out the window again. Sounds of grief and shock were starting to be heard.

"Are you ready to leave?" he asked her, grave and watchful.

Rose sniffed and nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

"I found a breach," he said. "It's small, but I think we can use it to send a message to your mother."

Rose nodded eagerly. "Will it work?"

"Hope so. It's the only one I've been able to find so far."

"How will we get it to...you know?" Rose gestured vaguely with her hand.

He grinned at her. "There's a small sun just over there. We can use the energy to get through."

She looked doubtful. "Is that allowed?"

It was what Rose wanted. That made it allowable for him.

* * *

Somewhere in another universe, impossibly far away, Jackie Tyler woke up. Someone was calling her name. No, not her name, it was...

"Rose?" she whispered in the dark. "Rose, is that you?"

She reached over, shook Pete awake.

"What is it?" he mumbled.

"It's Rose! Get up."

"Rose? Is she here?"

In the lovely living room in the mansion, Jackie sat wrapped up in a blanket. It was still dark and cold out, and Pete lit a fire in the fireplace. Mickey sat across from Jackie, watching her intently.

"All right, Jacks," Pete said. "Say it again. From the beginning."

"Mickey, I heard Rose," Jackie said, appealing to the one who cared about Rose almost as much as she did.

"A dream," Mickey started, but Jackie shook her head impatiently.

"It wasn't a dream. It was Rose. She was calling to me." She looked at Pete. "She's coming, Pete! She's coming back!"

Anyone else would have thought she was mad. But they knew that Rose was with the Doctor, and they knew that the Doctor was capable of anything.

They left before dawn, the three of them dressed in winter clothes and with other clothing in bags - they didn't know where Rose was. They got into Pete's Jeep and started driving, trusting that Jackie would know where to go.

"Is this right?" Pete asked again, for the third time since they'd started.

"She's calling me, Pete," Jackie said. "I can hear her."

* * *

"Mum."

Jackie turned around. There was Rose, standing where she hadn't been a moment before. She was translucent, light flickering through her. She was dressed in jeans and a black jacket.

"Rose," Jackie said in relief. "Where are you?"

"In the TARDIS."

"You look like a ghost." Jackie said the first thing that came into her mind, trying to cover up the alarm she felt at hearing that Rose was still in the TARDIS and not really in front of her.

Rose looked away, and then she suddenly seemed more solid.

"Here I am," she said brightly, trying not to cry.

Jackie walked over to her, raising her hand as if touch Rose's cheek.

"I'm just an image, Mum. I can't...I can't come through."

"How did you do this?"

"There's a gap in the universe, the Doctor says. Just one left. It's letting him project me across to you for a little bit."

"The Doctor. Is he there with you, then?"

Rose looked off to the side again. A moment later the Doctor's image materialized beside Rose.

"Hello, Jackie."

"Doctor. Can you send her back through to here? Can you send Rose back?" Jackie hears her voice shaking.

"I can't. I'm sorry." And he is. He is so, so sorry that this is how it all turned out. "The universes would both collapse if I tried it."

"So?" Jackie retorts, but it's without any hope. "Are you taking care of her?"

"I am."

"She's all alone now. You've got to promise that you'll always watch out for her. Promise me!"

"I promise, Jackie," the Doctor said soberly. "I will always take care of Rose."

"Mum..." Rose's voice trailed off helplessly. There was so much she had to say, and none of it would come in time.

"Where are we?" the Doctor asked, looking around. He caught sight of Pete and Mickey, standing over the by the Jeep. He raised an arm in their direction.

Jackie sniffed. "We're in Norway."

"Norway," Rose said, glancing around. "It's nice."

"It is nice, actually," Jackie agreed. "This place is called Darlig Ulv Stranden."

"Dalek?" Rose and the Doctor repeated together, exchanging a glance.

"Dar-LIG," Jackie said. "Norwegian. It translates to Bad Wolf Bay."

Rose and the Doctor could only stare at her.

"Oh," Rose said finally, the irony seeming to collapse like a weight upon her head. "Well."

"How much longer do we have?"

"About two minutes," the Doctor answered.

"Oh. That's just not enough time!"

"You've still got Dad and Mickey?" Rose asked.

Jackie nodded. "There's five of us now. Pete and Mickey. Mickey's gran is with us now in the mansion."

Rose smiled faintly, nodding as she remembered the formidable Rita Smith.

"And the baby," Jackie continued casually.

This caught their attention.

"Baby?" Rose and the Doctor chorused.

She smiled. "I'm having a baby. Me an' your dad."

Rose looked over at Pete, stunned into speechlessness.

"Oh, well done, Pete," the Doctor said with a huge grin.

"Oh, that's brilliant." Rose smiled, pleased beyond all measure.

Jackie nodded, wiping tears away. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked Rose.

Rose shook her head. "You can't. The universes have to close."

"But what will you do?" Jackie asked helplessly.

"We have the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "Same old life. Traveling around, seeing the sights."

"Forever?" Jackie protested. "That's not what I wanted for you, Rose!"

"It's what I want, Mum," Rose said, gently but firmly.

Jackie started crying in earnest now. "I love you, Rose. So much!"

Rose was crying now, too. "I love you, Mum! I love you!"

Jackie raised her hand as if to touch Rose's image, but Rose and the Doctor faded away, Rose's hand reaching out to Jackie as it did so.

Jackie buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

In the TARDIS, Rose stood still as a statue, her hand still reaching out.

"Mum," she whispered.

The Doctor gently turned her and enfolded her in his arms.

"I'll never see her again," she cried.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, rubbing her back. "Rose."

She let herself cry for a few moments before pulling away, wiping her face on the hem of her shirt.

"I got to say goodbye. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

She smiled. "Thank you." She wiped at her face again. "I'm gonna go wash my face, 'kay?"

"Okay," he agreed readily. "Shall I get us out of here?"

"Yes, Please."

"Any requests?" he asked, heading over to the console.

"I don't care. Somewhere fun and...and dis-" Rose stopped and stared beyond the Doctor, mouth hanging open slightly.

"Rose?" Alarmed, he turned to follow her gaze. His mouth fell open as well. Standing there in a long white wedding dress was a very angry woman. He held his hand out to Rose without being aware he was doing so.

Somehow Rose's feet moved, and she found her way to the Doctor, standing still beside him as he slid an arm around her waist.

"Where am I?" the woman demanded furiously. "What is this place?"


	2. Chapter 2

The next time that she saw a spider, Rose vowed to herself, she was going to _stomp_ on it with all the force she could muster.

"Are you all right?" Donna crouched down beside her.

"How come you're all wet?" Rose blinked up at her. "How come _I'm _all wet?"

Donna put a hand under Rose's arm and helped her stand.

"That spider empress knocked you down. I grabbed you before you fell down that hole after Lance."

Rose glanced at the deep hole and shuddered. "I remember now. I fell down and hit my head." She touched the back of her head, which was hurting and throbbing. "Where's the Doctor?" she asked suddenly, looking around.

"He's coming. He saw you fall and hit your head. We both thought you were dead - no one should have survived falling that far."

"Oh." Rose was silent, pushing wet strands of her hair away from her face. "He did the Oncoming Storm thing, didn't he?" Bits and pieces were coming back to her.

"Made it rain," Donna affirmed, without catching Rose's real meaning. "Drowned the spider woman _and_ all her babies. He would have drowned us, too," she added indignantly, "if I hadn't stopped him."

"Rose!" It was the Doctor hurrying to her, soaking wet.

"What'd you do?" were the words she greeted him with. If they sounded accusatory, well, she'd gone unconscious and the next thing he did was try and destroy the world. Seemed like she was allowed to sound accusatory.

"Are you all right?" The Doctor ignored her question as he looked her over, running his hands over her arms and looking closely at her face.

"I'm _wet,_" Rose stated. "I am very wet."

"So are we all," Donna said. "Can we get out of here, please? I'm freezing."

The Doctor looked at Donna, his hands still on Rose's shoulders. He seemed to shake himself free of his fear for Rose's safety.

"Yes. Right. Okay, Donna Noble, we'll take you home."

* * *

Outside of Donna's home, Rose and the Doctor said goodbye.

"Good luck, Donna," Rose said. "I'm sorry about Lance."

Donna shrugged. "He wasn't the right one for me, was he? He always was a tosser. I'll be all right."

"What will you do now?" Rose asked.

Donna shrugged, gesturing at her ruined wedding dress. "Go inside. Change my clothes. Have Christmas dinner."

Rose nodded slowly. "If you wanted," she said tentatively, "you could come with us."

"Come with you?" Donna repeated. "What - in, in that?"

"It's called the TARDIS," the Doctor said, a bit testily.

Donna ignored him and smiled at Rose. "Thank you. Really. But I'm not really the sort of person who travels around in a spaceship."

"Okay." Rose smiled. "Well, happy Christmas."

Donna hesitated on her way to the door. "You two want to come in for Christmas dinner? Oh come on," she said, seeing the look they gave each other. "It's late and dark and cold and there's a massive feast in there, and I could use the support."

The Doctor could see the look in Rose's eyes. He was not going to deny her that.

"We'd love it," he said with a tight smile.

Just then Rose sneezed, and he swiftly changed his mind. "Sorry, Donna, but I need to take care of Rose. Good luck."

He waved goodbye and closed the door to the TARDIS over Rose's protests.

Donna smiled and stood outside, waving, until the blue box disappeared. Then she took a deep breath, straightened the skirt of her wet, dirty, ripped wedding dress, and went inside where her family was waiting.

"It would have been nice to have dinner with them!" Rose complained.

"Yes, that would have been the best Christmas ever," he said absently. "You're wet, Rose. We need to change."

She couldn't argue with that, but she did anyway. Setting her mouth into a pout, she stalked off to her bedroom.

The pink walls greeted her when she opened the door. The TARDIS had turned the lights on for her.

"Thanks," Rose said to the TARDIS. She couldn't remember now when she had first started to think of the TARDIS as a living creature. No, she did, actually. When she had looked into the heart of the TARDIS. The ship was alive, and Rose knew it well now. She might not have understood the song, and she didn't always hear it, but she knew it was there.

Standing in the middle of her bathroom, Rose stripped off her black pants. Pulling off the blue angora sweater, she decided that she was never wearing it again. She tossed it into a corner and stepped into a hot shower.

By the time she was done, she was wetter than she'd started. The tears had come. Tears for Jackie and her friends and for all of those killed by the Daleks and Cybermen. Even for those poor men killed by the spider empress.

When Rose stepped out of the shower to get dressed, the blue sweater was gone, as were all of the clothes she was wearing. The TARDIS knew her very well.

"Thanks," she said again, wiping at her eyes and running an affectionate hand over the TARDIS wall. "Don't ever want to see those things again."

The impact of everything that had happened was finally hitting her. Her family and Mickey were gone, lost to her. She'd just watched the Doctor nearly destroy everything with water, watched him destroy living creatures.

Rose pulled on clean clothes, soft sweat pants and a white t-shirt. Over her shirt went the matching hoodie jacket. She quickly dried her hair and did her makeup because it was a way to avoid having to think. But at last there was nothing else to do, and she knew that she had to find the Doctor.

He was in the console room, staring at the controls to the TARDIS. Just standing there, staring – so still and so unlike himself that her heart stopped for a beat. His hair was dry and he'd changed into a dry suit. His shirt and tie were different. Sensing her standing there, he turned and smiled.

"Hello. All dry now?"

"Yeah." Rose stepped over to him. "You okay?"

"Of course," he said, surprised. "Are you?"

She could feel his concern so clearly. No matter what had happened, he was worried about her.

"I'd like some tea," she said, surprising them both. "Come on?"

"Sounds like a good idea," he agreed, leaving the TARDIS spinning in the Time Vortex.

In the kitchen Rose poured hot water into mugs. "So it's Christmas," she said. "At least it was down there."

"Time is relative," the Doctor agreed absently.

Rose sat down across from him. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," he responded. "Bit different from last year, isn't it?"

She looked around the kitchen, noting the absence of Christmas crackers or decorations or other family and friends.

"Just a bit. But we have each other." That would be enough. It had been enough before.

He covered her hand with his for a brief moment. "Always."

Rose stirred her tea with a spoon. When she got the courage to look up, she saw that the Doctor's eyes were on her, calm and steady and comforting.

"What is it, Rose?"

"Back there, at H.C. Clements, right before I passed out-"

His face darkened. "You fell. The empress was concerned only with feeding her children."

"Well, you can't really blame her for that," Rose said fairly. "Well, you can, but, well, you know." She waved a hand through the air. "Anyway. She knew you. She knew your home."

"My people killed the Racnoss," he confirmed quietly. "They had to be stopped. We did what was necessary."

"You don't talk about them," Rose said suddenly. "About your home, about your family. You don't say."

Pain flashed in his eyes. "They're gone, Rose. They're all gone."

"I know. But you still never say. It was called Gallifrey," she said tentatively.

"Gallifrey," he confirmed. But he didn't continue. What was there to say? His family, his friends, all gone. To think about it, even after all this time, was too painful to stand. That the Time War had happened was bad enough. That he had been the instrument that caused his planet's destruction was more than he could take, most of the time.

But Rose was never one to let things stand. "What was it like?" she persisted.

He frowned into his tea, not really wanting to remember. But there was Rose, her big brown eyes looking at him, half-smiling. She had just lost everything she had in the world, too, and he heard himself talking without planning to.

"Gallifrey." The Doctor sighed, drawing the figure for "courage/bravery/strength" in Gallifreyan on the table. "It was brilliant. You should have seen it, Rose. The Shining World of the Seven Systems. The suns would rise in the morning and light the orange sky – and the mountains, they would _shine._ The trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it was like the forest was ablaze. When the autumn came, it would blow through the branches like a sun."

"It sounds perfect," Rose said softly, almost mesmerized by the calm rhythm of his voice.

That jarred the Doctor out of his reverie. He took a sip of tea. "Perfect to look at, maybe. In the mountains...the Citadel of the Time Lords sat in the mountains. The oldest and most mighty race in the universe, looking down on the galaxies below. Sworn never to interfere, only to watch." He had started now, and he kept going, kept talking because to stop now would be to let the pain keep building and it would build until it sliced him into two.

"Children of Gallifrey are taken from their families at the age of eight to enter the Academy. When they're taken for initiation...there's a gap in the fabric of reality." The Doctor expanded his hands, as though to demonstrate. "You can see the hole of the Vortex through that gap, Rose. You stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power of time and space. Some would be inspired...some would run away...and some would go mad."

Rose nodded, understanding some of it now. "What about you?" she whispered. "Which did you do?"

He took another sip of tea and smiled at her. "Oh, I was one of the ones that ran away. I never stopped."

"Not ever?" she questioned, but the TARDIS lurched suddenly before he could respond.

Getting to his feet, the Doctor hurried to the control room, followed closely by Rose.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's happening?"

He was pulling at knobs and levers, trying to find the source of whatever was agitating the TARDIS.

"Something's wrong," he said tersely. "What is it?" he asked his ship. "What is it?"

The ship responded by lurching them out of the Time Vortex, pulling them both to the floor. Rose winced as she hit the grating. She stayed where she was, on her back, until the TARDIS came to a stop.

The Doctor popped up to look at the computer. Rose got up more slowly, rubbing at her bruises.

"Where are we?" she asked, standing next to the Doctor.

"Earth, not too long after we left Donna at Christmas dinner," he answered. " Something's here that shouldn't be here. Come on!"

"Where?" she cried, hurrying to keep up with him as he ran to the door.

"Wherever here is," he said, grabbing his coat and putting it on.

The first moment of stepping out of the TARDIS onto unfamiliar land was always exciting. Rose followed him outside eagerly, then came to a halt.

Well, sometimes it was more exciting than other times.

They stood in the yard of an old house. The gardens were overgrown and overrun with weeds. A stone statue of an angel was on the edge of the lawn, reminding Rose of the statues sometimes placed in cemeteries. It gave her a creepy feeling, even though it was hiding its eyes with its hands.

"What is this place?" Rose started to walk around, kicking at leaves and debris on the ground.

"Inside," the Doctor said. "It's inside. Come on!"

"What's inside?" Rose cried, following him running to catch up with him. "Doctor, are you sure we ought to be here?"

He opened the door and stepped into the house's hallway. Rose made a face at the smell.

"It's like no one's been here for years and years."

Behind them, several meters closer than before, stood the stone statue she had seen outside.

"Probably not," the Doctor agreed, walking quickly around the room. "Not in here. Come on!"

Rose followed obediently, watching his flapping coat move in front of her. Something made a noise behind her, and she spun around in alarm.

A scream started in her throat before she realized that it was just another statue, standing at the end of the hallway.

"Blimey," she muttered to herself. "Who puts a stone angel in the house?"

"What was that?" the Doctor called back to her.

"Nothing!" Rose yelled. "Where are you?"

"This way! Come on!"

By the time Rose reached the Doctor he was on the second floor, wielding the sonic screwdriver and taking readings.

"I don't get it," she complained. "There's nothing here. It's just an empty house."

"It's not just an empty house. There are readings here that shouldn't be here."

"Uh huh," Rose said, somewhat rudely. It wouldn't be the first time he made an impressive statement only to have it turn out to be nothing at all. "Maybe there are rats in the walls."

"Rats," he repeated, turning to frown at her. "Where's your imagination?"

"Cats, then," she suggested, just to watch him wince.

Which he did, of course.

The room had a faded carpet on the floor, a pattern of roses barely visible. Wallpaper was peeling off of the walls, and there was a bit of a draft coming from the window.

Rose walked to the window and pushed aside moth-eaten velvet drapes that she thought used to be a dark blue.

"Oh!" Startled, she jumped back.

"What is it?" The Doctor was at her side in a moment.

"It's nothing. Just saw a statue out there on the ground. Saw one in the yard and one downstairs, too. This place is full of them."

"Statues?" he repeated.

"Stone angels," Rose said. "See?" She pulled aside the drapes again and screamed. The stone angel that had been on the ground outside was now right outside the window.

"I don't get it," she whispered. "What's goin' on?"

The Doctor spun around at a sound outside in the hallway. "Oh, no." He raised the sonic screwdriver again. "Oh, no."

"Doctor?"

"Rose." The Doctor's voice was very still. "Don't blink."

"What?" Rose turned to look at him.

"Don't move!"

Startled, Rose swung back and swallowed a gasp. The stone angel stood directly in front of her, inside the room now, meters closer than it had been moments ago.

"Doctor?" she whispered, "wanna tell me what's happening?"

"Don't look away from them. Don't blink. We need to get to the TARDIS."

Eyes held open wide, Rose took his cue and slowly began moving to the door.

"Come on," the Doctor murmured.

But one of them - they never decided which one - blinked.

Rose screamed. The Doctor flung himself on top of her and held on tight.

* * *

When they opened their eyes they were standing on a street corner. Rose looked around cautiously, as best as she could with her head smashed against the Doctor's chest.

He slowly released her, holding on to her arm. "You all right?"

"My head," she said faintly.

"We've time traveled," the Doctor said. "Doing that without a capsule is not pleasant."

"Time traveled? But we're in London. What happened?"

"Those statues you saw back there," the Doctor said, "they're called the Weeping Angels. They send you into the past and let you live out your life, and then in the present they consume the energy of all the days you would have had."

"That's...that's just crazy," Rose said slowly. "Who does that?"

"Psychopaths," said the Doctor, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and scanning the area, and then pocketing it again. "They're peaceful psychopaths, I'll give them that. They live on _potential_ energy, Rose. They've stolen our potential and here we are – nice way to kill you, if you think about it. Far nicer than falling off a radio tower, for instance."

"Back in time, you said. But we're in-" Rose broke off as a woman in teased hair, a miniskirt and go-go boots walked by. "London," she finished.

The Doctor scratched his head. "Well, I don't suspect we'll be here long. Fancy a jaunt through the 1960's?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Rose and the Doctor walked along the street, hand in hand. Rose's head kept swiveling around, taking in all the 1960's fashions. Men and women strolled by, long hair swinging – some bound into tight braids, some swinging loose - on both sexes. They wore miniskirts and long, flowing dresses of cotton, heavy beaded necklaces and metal bangles. Some walked with a sexy sway, deliberately rocking hips back and forth, and others walked with their heads in the air. This was the Sexual Revolution, the era of free love and protest songs. Rose could practically feel the spirit of change around her.

"This is fantastic," Rose said, craning her head around to look at the people and the shops they passed. "A blast from the past and all that, yeah?"

"I remember the 1960's," the Doctor said nostalgically. "I was here for a while."

"What were you doing?"

He opened his mouth but didn't say anything for a long moment. "Just...staying in one place for a while," he said finally.

"When you were working for UNIT?" Rose had heard some stories about that time. After one particularly rough adventure, when the Slitheen had tried to take over the Earth during his last regeneration, he'd told her stories of the time he'd been stranded on Earth.

"Yes," the Doctor said softly. He'd been here before then, of course, traveling with his granddaughter Susan. Exiled from their home world, they'd traveled time and space in the TARDIS he had stolen, landing on Earth when she'd expressed an interest in going to school like a regular human girl. That experiment had ended with his taking two humans aboard - _would Ian and Barbara be around here somewhere? _- and his life hadn't been the same since, really.

"Doctor?" Rose prodded him in the side. "You okay?"

He smiled at her. "Sorry. Lost my train of thought there. You were saying?"

It looked like Rose had a lot to say, but before she could ask what had brought that look of sadness to his face, they walked past an open shop door._ Mrs. Robinson_ was playing somewhere inside, the music floating out to the street.

"Ah, Simon and Garfunkel," the Doctor said cheerfully, throwing off his dark mood as suddenly as it had come over him. "Decent chaps, the pair of them. You'd have to go to Bustrix, in the Cappal nebula, to hear harmony like that again. They got _Scarborough_ _Fair_ all wrong, of course. Easy enough to do if you weren't there. Back in the Middle Ages, you see, Rose, the town of Scarborough would get all prettied up and-" He stopped talking when he noticed that Rose was gone.

She was standing in one of the shop windows, admiring the fashions clothing displayed there. She indicated the loudly patterned blouses in the window. "What do you think?"

The Doctor winced and rocked back on his heels. "I think my eyes hurt."

She laughed but turned away, letting him tuck her hand into his as they walked down the street. "Sooo, we're stuck here in the past. Where's the TARDIS?"

He frowned. "Back where we left it, I'm afraid. If those angels manage to get inside it they'd have enough energy to do a lot of damage. We need to get it back."

"Okay," Rose said readily. "How do we do that? How do we get from now to then?" She paused and glanced around. "When exactly is now, anyway?" They'd come to the end of the street, on the corner of which was a newsstand. Nodding a friendly hello to the newsagent, Rose picked up a newspaper to look at the date. "Huh. It's 1969." She put the paper down and started walking in step with the Doctor again. "So all we need to do is get from- what are you doing?"

As soon as she's said 1969 the Doctor started hunting through his coat pockets. "Good thing I had this with me," he muttered.

"You usually do," she agreed.

"Where is it? Where is it?" The Doctor took his coat off and was now going through all of the transdimensional pockets with greater urgency.

"Did you lose something?" Rose couldn't help asking.

He gave a grunt of annoyance and looked around. Spotting a bench, he sat down and started looking through the pockets again. Rose sat down beside him and prepared to wait patiently.

They got a few odd looks from passers-by. The Doctor's brown suit was not quite the current style for men. Her own sweats, while cute and comfortable, were a far cry from the neat shirtdresses, short skirts, and teased hair most of the women walking past seemed to be sporting. Rose shrugged it off. It certainly was not the first time they'd been somewhere where the local fashion didn't mesh with what they wore.

"Ha!" the Doctor said triumphantly, pulling a large envelope out of his coat.

"What's that?"

He frowned. "I got it in the future. I put it away just in case."

Rose took a closer look at the envelope. "That looks familiar." Realization came and she met his eyes. "Oh."

"She said that someday we'd be stuck in 1969," he said. "And that we'd need this."

She nodded, remembering. "Did you ever look inside?"

"No," he admitted, scratching his ear. "I don't like to be surprised. Takes all the fun out of it."

"We're going to be here a while, aren't we?" she asked. "We don't have the TARDIS and we don't know how to get it back."

"Well, not yet." The Doctor opened the envelope. "This is the key, though. Obviously we've gotten back before, so we just need to keep the time loop. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy."

Rose looked over his shoulder as he rifled through papers and photos. He flipped through them nonchalantly until he came to a neatly typed letter.

_Doctor,_ it began, _I have first to thank you for saving my life, and then strongly urge you to be careful with your own. My name is Sally Sparrow, and although we have never met, I would ask that you do exactly as I say..._

"Bit bossy, isn't she?" Rose asked, wrinkling her nose.

"She's right," the Doctor said shortly. "It's best not to deviate at all, or the universe could collapse. Paradoxes and time loops are tricky things." He looked over at her and beamed. "As you and I both well know."

"No reapers this time," Rose said firmly. "Although, from this transcript -" she had been flipping through it, skimming what was written there, "it looks like we might be here for a while." She grinned at him, tongue escaping from her teeth. "What's more frightening, Doctor? A lease or a mortgage?"

"Can't we just... stay in a motel? Travel around a bit?" the Doctor winced. "I'm really not good at domestic, Rose. Really not good."

"I haven't had to be in a while, either," Rose mused. "Still, let's just look at it as adventure, yeah? The Doctor and Rose, the stuff of legend – living the ordinary... legendarily. That went a bit better inside of my head."

The Doctor threw back his head and laughed. "We can give it a go, yeah?"

"Definitely."

* * *

Acquiring enough money to put down first months' rent in a modest flat was a simple enough matter: the Doctor flashed the psychic paper at a bank and they had enough cash to get settled.

"It has to be the last time, though," the Doctor said, placing the roll of pounds in one of the many pockets of his greatcoat. "We don't want to get funny looks."

"I can get a job. Was a shopgirl before, I can do it again," Rose said cheerfully. "Especially since we won't be here long."

The Doctor looked over at her with a grin. "First things first, though."

"What?" Rose looked over at him.

"We've got to go commit some vandalism!"

Rose beamed. "Let's try not to get thrown in jail while we're at it."

"Oh," drawled the Doctor, "where's the fun in that?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Right," the Doctor said briskly. "Here's the plan, Rose. We go back to that house with the angels - what'd she call it? Wester Drumlins. We go back to Wester Drumlins and set up whatever we've already set up so that we can wind up here again, in the future. Past. Present." He waved a hand. "Wibbly-wobbly."

Rose shook her head. "Mm, sorry Doctor, not following ya."

He waved a set of photographs at her with a proud grin. "We're going back to this house, Rose. Where apparently it's really important that we tell Sally Sparrow to duck."

Rose flipped through the photographs. "The house that sent us here to 1969? Won't there be people living there or something?"

The Doctor leaned over her shoulder, looking at the pictures with her. "Maybe. Maybe not. Only one way to tell. She has the address down, here." He pointed. " All we need to do is go have a look."

Rose nodded slowly, not moving from her spot on the bench even the Doctor jumped up. He looked down at her expectantly.

"Those angels," Rose began, thoughtfully. "They sent us here to the past. To use up our potential futures."

"Yeah. In a nutshell." The Doctor stuffed the envelope back into his coat and slid his hands into his trouser pockets.

"What if the angels are still there? Or are there already," she corrected herself. One of the hazards of time travel was the damage it could do to all your tenses. "If they see us, will they send us back even farther in time? What happens if they do?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer and then shut it again. "I don't know," he was forced to admit. The slight frown on his face betrayed the fact that he did not like admitting that he didn't know an answer. "We only have one future. _Potential_ futures may be more numerous, I don't know. Time was you could look into a timeline and-"

"If we go there and the angels are there," Rose interrupted him, "then we take the risk of having them zap us back again, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So we just need to work out a way to keep them from uncovering their eyes."

The Doctor began to smile. "I have just the thing, Rose Tyler. Come on!"

* * *

"No one knows where they came from," the Doctor told Rose as they walked down the street. "They've been around for, ohhhh, nearly as long as the universe, more or less. They survive because they're quantum-locked."

Rose skirted around a couple embracing each other in the middle of the street. It was a nice sunny, warm day, and she was still a bit shocked to see how much skin the couple had on display. She made a mental note to remember that the sixties were not so long ago.

"Quantum-locked?" she repeated. "What's that?" Sometimes her questions were answered enthusiastically and in great detail, and other times the Doctor merely regarded her with a look of mild confusion, like he didn't understand why she couldn't get it the first time around.

Thankfully, this time he nodded and chose to expand. "Quantum-locked. They don't exist when someone is watching them. Remember the first time you saw one, in the gardens at the house?"

"Its hands were covering its eyes," Rose recalled.

"Exactly. The moment another living creature sees them, they turn into rock."

"Into rock."

"Into rock! A rock can't hurt you, of course. But if you look away it's not a rock anymore, it's alive." The Doctor expanded his hands in front of his face and shuddered. "Sorry, didn't mean to do the... jazz hand thing..."

Rose grinned but refocused him. "We definitely need to do this quickly."

"We do, indeed. First things first. We need transportation."

"There's a cab," Rose pointed out. "It's a bit of a trek from here to there, isn't it?"

He started to agree, then stopped. "We're pretty low on funds, after leaving that deposit on the flat," the Doctor said slowly.

"Bit hard to get cash without an ATM," Rose agreed. "How'd you manage the last time you were here?"

"Well, I had a job, didn't I? Ready cash at hand."

"We'll have that soon," Rose promised him. "I'll get a job tomorrow, just like that." She snapped her fingers to illustrate, and he grinned in appreciation.

"Too right you will, Rose Tyler. In that case, let's hail that cab. We have a detour to make."

"We're not even there yet," Rose said.

"All in good time, Rose. All in good time."

* * *

The cab came to a stop at a red light. The Doctor opened the door with a flourish, ushering Rose into the backseat. He bounced in after her and addressed the driver.

"Hello there! Can you take us to the nearest Woolworth's, please?"

"What are you doing?" the driver demanded. "This cab is not in service."

"Oh," Rose said lamely. "Sorry, we didn't see."

"Not a problem!" the Doctor assured him cheerfully. "Just drop us off at Woolworth's and you can go on your merry way."

"I can't take you anywhere," the driver snapped. "Please get out."

"Green light," Rose pointed out, and the driver muttered something and hit the gas. Rose fell back against the Doctor. He steadied her and put his arm around her.

"He's a bit skittish, isn't he?" she asked in a low voice.

"A bit," the Doctor agreed.

Rose knew that tone of voice. He was intrigued. She was suddenly very, very tired. All she wanted was to lean back against the Doctor and close her eyes, turn her face into his coat and sleep. The events of the day had caught up with her, and she doubted that she could go on for much longer.

She did just that, breathing in the scent of him as she closed her eyes. The coat smelled like the Doctor, clean and sharp and something that she'd never been able to place but that was a wonderful smell.

The Doctor settled his arm around Rose's shoulders and squeezed her arm gently. "All right? We had a bit of a rough day."

"Never-ending day, but 'm okay," Rose mumbled, and he smiled a little.

"I promise, we'll be done after this. Won't take long." He brushed the top of her head with a kiss. "Just rest until we get where we're going and then it's all downhill from there."

The light kiss the Doctor gave her ran through her body like a current. Rose knew it was silly, but every touch the Doctor gave her did that. Every hug, every hand he held, every shoulder nudge. She was dangerously close to falling for him, if she hadn't already.

The cab's radio switched on before Rose could get comfortable again.

"Harvey, where are you?" an aggravated voice demanded. "I've been standing here for ten minutes!"

"I have a fare," the driver - Harvey - said into the radio. "Be right there."

"What do you have a fare for?" the voice asked. "Get rid of 'em and come on!"

"Okay, Steve. Coming."

"Hurry up!"

"Your friend doesn't sound very patient," the Doctor observed.

"He's been waiting a while," Harvey said, speeding through a light before it could turn from yellow to red. "Woolworth's is right down here."

"He's got access to a radio," the Doctor observed. "Is he a cab driver? He could just hop into an empty cab and take himself off."

"It's complicated," Harvey said repressively. "No need to trouble you folks about it."

"Well, now, complicated is a state of mind," the Doctor started, and was silenced by Rose's hand on top of his own.

"Leave him alone," she said softly. "We have enough to be curious about right now."

He was a bit hurt by that, but he had to admit the truth of her words. They were in quite the mess at the moment, weren't they?

The radio crackled with static again. "Harvey!" the same voice snapped. "Change of plans! Condition red! Repeat, condition red!"

Harvey swore.

Rose sat up warily, looking from the back of Harvey's head to the Doctor.

"What's condition red, then?" the Doctor said politely. "If you don't mind us asking?"

Harvey smiled at them in the mirror. "It means your miserable planet's time has come."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "Sorry, but that doesn't make much sense. Time for what?"

The Doctor sighed and rubbed his head. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

Harvey proved him right.

"Time to surrender to superior alien forces," Harvey said, and stepped on the gas pedal.

Rose settled back against the seat, prepared to go along. "Of course," she says cheerfully. "I might have known."

They looked at each other for a moment, until the absurdity of the situation struck them, and they started to laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

Harvey stared at them in the rearview mirror, squinting suspiciously.

"You think this is a joke?" he asked.

"Oh, no, far from it," the Doctor said, clearing his throat and straightening his tie. "I assure you, we don't think it's a joke." He glanced over at Rose. "Do we?"

"No," Rose agreed, shaking her head with a barely-contained smile. "No jokes. Definitely not."

"See?" The Doctor smiled at Harvey as if that settled that.

"So, who are the superior alien forces?" Rose asked interestedly, leaning forward. "You and your friend?"

"More than just the two of you, I hope," the Doctor added. "Earth's rather a large planet... with your humanoid form I'd imagine you'd need, oh – thousands more of you. Where are you hiding a thousand aliens, eh?"

"Our forces will make your planet tremble."

"That sounds very threatening, indeed," the Doctor said calmly. "So what's this condition red, then? Full alert, all forces march? Pillage, plunder, damn the torpedoes?"

Harvey started driving again, the taxi speeding through traffic with very little regard to pedestrians, lights and traffic laws. Rose glanced out the window, wondering how good London policemen in 1969 were at chasing down racing motorists.

"No need to rush," the Doctor continued, also looking out the window. "I'm sure we'll get there just fine at a normal rate of speed."

Harvey sped up in response. There were no seatbelts in the back of the taxi, and Rose and the Doctor careened around, knocking into each other and then getting thrown back into separate corners.

"Slow down!" Rose managed to say as she struggled to wrap her hands around anything that would steady her. Harvey turned a corner, tires squealing. The resulting forces pitched Rose into the Doctor. The top of her head caught his chin, and he winced as he settled her more securely on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and bracing himself across nearly the whole seat, feet pressed firmly against the floorboard, his hands flat on the seat in front of them.

"Hang on!" he said into her hair

It was hard to hold on where there was nothing to hold on _to_. Making the best of it, Rose rested against the Doctor, clutching his arms. She tried to see what was happening, but despite the way the Doctor had arranged himself, they continued to slide about.

"Talk about exciting!" Rose yelled as the Doctor caught her for the third time.

"You're going to kill us before we get there, Harvey!" the Doctor yelled. "Slow down! Your invasion's no good if you're dead before you get there!"

Harvey showed no inclination to cooperate, only muttering, "Humans."

It was a risk, releasing Rose, but the Doctor freed his hand to reach into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver. As he pulled it out of his coat Harvey took another sharp turn. Rose went flying to the other side of the car, hitting the back of her head on the window.

"Rose!" The Doctor aimed the sonic screwdriver at the dashboard and lunged for her. "Rose?"

"Ow," Rose said.

The car came to an abrupt halt, jerking even Harvey forward. "What did you do?" Harvey asked furiously. "The car won't start!"

Rose blinked a few times. "Are we stopped?" she asked. "I'm still spinning."

The Doctor gently touched her head. His fingers came away wet with blood. Rose wrinkled her face.

"Tell me that's yours."

The Doctor flung himself over the seat, landing next to Harvey and grabbing the car keys out of the ignition.

"That's enough," he said. "Get out of the car and-"

Harvey was not listening. He was staring out of the windshield with a look of awe and fear. The Doctor followed his gaze. A large group of men stood there, all armed with daggers and swords. Most sported at least one earring, and all looked like they wouldn't mind killing a man in hand to hand fighting.

"Are they with you?" the Doctor asked.

Rose sat up slowly and looked outside. "What's going on?"

"An alien invasion," Harvey said in satisfaction. 'Get out of the car."

The Doctor sighed and carefully, solicitously, helped Rose get out of the car. As much as he wanted to protest and try to do something, anything, he was all too aware that he was the only thing keeping Rose safe in this time.

"You all right?" he asked.

Rose started to nod and then thought better of it. "Yeah. Just a headache. Could have used a few air bags."

Ignoring Harvey's angry mutterings to hurry it along, the Doctor inspected her head.

"Doesn't look too bad," he told her. "I don't think you'll need stitches."

Rose brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Well, that's good. Don't exactly have health insurance in 1969, me."

"Humans. Come this way."

"Just a moment," the Doctor said pleasantly, pushing Rose's hair off of her forehead and narrowing his eyes.

"Now."

"I'm taking care of my friend," the Doctor said, much less pleasantly. "We'll be along as soon as I'm finished."

"We better go," Rose murmured. "He looks a bit mean."

"I can look mean, too." The Doctor stepped forward, looking past Harvey to the group of men beyond. His face changed, so slightly that only Rose could tell. He had a look of surprise in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Now the surprise changed to speculation.

They were in what looked like a large car park. Cabs were parked here and there, and Rose could just make out a sign for a cab company on a nearby building. All of Harvey's alien invaders must be cab drivers like himself.

They looked like normal men to Rose. Dressed a bit odd, but this was the sixties. Her sense of fashion style was off by a few decades. She looked at the Doctor to see how she should react. If he was all frowny and forbidding, it was a signal for her to be on her guard. But he was staring at the aliens with a look of absolute delight, like he was enjoying himself hugely.

"So this is an alien invasion," the Doctor announced.

"You heard right," Harvey said.

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets. "Might I ask why?"

"Why?" one of the large mass of men said furiously. "Because we're tired of living the way we've been living, that's why!"

"What way would that be?" Rose asked, moving to stand beside the Doctor.

"We came here to see the universe!" Harvey said. "Answered an ad for a job, decided to see what Earth was like."

The Doctor was watching him closely. "From the Corubula galaxy, I'd guess?"

Harvey nodded. "Most of us."

"The Corubulans have an excellent sense of direction," the Doctor explained to Rose. "They never get lost. Never. Show them a map once, just once, and they'll never forget it. Brilliant, right?"

Rose eyed the fifty or so men who'd been prepared to invade Earth. "That doesn't really explain the scarves on their heads and the black leather pants. Are they also all pirates?"

"So all of you came here to drive cabs around London?" The Doctor didn't sound too convinced. "That's hardly a worthy job for people of your talents."

"It was fun," Harvey said. "We liked it."

"Enough of that!' one of his fellows shouted. "Send them off the face of the Earth!"

"Can it, Steve!" Harvey shouted back. "We've been here for months now!" he explained to the Doctor. "Months! Haven't had a holiday or even a day to ourselves!"

"And your idea of labor negotiations is to invade Earth?" The Doctor now sounded skeptical. "Bit of an overkill, isn't it?"

"We want a holiday!"

"What are you doing?" a man screamed from off in the corner. Everyone turned to see a human male running over. "The phones are ringing off their hooks! Why are the cabs all parked on the lot?"

Harvey stood up straight. "I'm sorry, Mr. Totley, but we are not going to work any longer."

Mr. Totley, a tall man with gray hair, a brown suit, and a very angry expression on his face, folded his arms and stared at Harvey. "If you don't work, you lose your visa and get sent back home!"

"Visa?" the Doctor and Rose said in surprise.

"Since when do aliens get work visas?" Rose wanted to know.

"Not in my time when I was in this time," the Doctor said back. "It's a rather stupid idea."

"You can't send us back," Harvey said triumphantly. "No one else will work for you since you hired outside the union."

"There's a union?" Rose could see why the Doctor might be enjoying himself. This was better than an episode of _Eastenders_.

This fact appeared to strike Mr. Totley rather forcibly. "I don't care," he blustered. "I'll hire new aliens to drive the cabs! You can all return home! I'll have a few things to say to your employment agency back there, I can tell you!"

"Hang on!" Rose said. "What's so bad about them getting a holiday once in a while? Are you really such a bad employer?"

Mr. Totley turned to her. "The agreement was for constant work hours! They get their evenings off and a free Sunday once every eighteen months."

"That's not fair!" Rose protested. "No one can work like that!"

"That's the agreement they all signed."

"That was back when we thought Earth was just a backwater kind of place!" Steve exclaimed furiously. "How was we to know there was more to it? We want to see the places we've been driving by!"

His words let loose a torrent from the other drivers.

"Yeah, we've never seen anything but of London!'

"I want to go to Disney World!"

"I want to see the Great Wall of China!"

"I've never been to Boston in the fall!"

"If that's the problem," the Doctor said, "why not just give them the time off? They get to stay and experience the, er, wonders of your beautiful planet. They'll be rested and still work for you. Everyone is happy, and Earth avoids an alien invasion."

He couldn't help glancing around as he spoke. An alien invasion, even a small one like this, would mean UNIT, and the last thing he needed was for his former self to bump into his current self. That sort of encounter tended to be rather awkward. Besides, that incarnation had tended to be... well. Grumpy.

"Who'll drive my cabs if they're all off on holiday?" Mr. Totley demanded.

"Well, they won't all go at once, will they?" Rose said reasonably. "Make up a schedule."

Mr. Totley didn't look too happy. He glanced over at his employees, who were all glaring at him. They looked fairly angry and rather dangerous to Rose, and she waited expectantly.

Mr. Totley didn't look too happy, but he nodded. "Deal."

The aliens erupted in cheers and applause, slapping each other on the back and making a queer sort of whistle in celebration.

The Doctor smiled at Rose, nudging her on the shoulder. "I love a happy ending, don't you?"

"The best," Rose said, beaming, and squeezed his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

The alien cab drivers came to an amicable agreement with their employer. Three weeks' holiday each year, national holidays at extra pay, and a health plan. The health plan had been Rose's idea.

"They can't go around traveling and having fun without health insurance!" she'd protested. "What if they get sick or something?"

This had clearly never occurred to the aliens before. By the end of that conversation, major medical was included in their new contracts.

"Are you satisfied now?" the Doctor asked Rose once all the drivers and their employer had gone back to work.

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I am. They shouldn't be taken advantage of. It's not fair."

He shook his head. "Rose Tyler. Defender of the poor, the downtrodden-"

"The aliens!" she finished up. "That includes you, you know. So you can always count on me!"

"Oh, I will," the Doctor said, taking hold of her hand. "You're my sure thing."

She nodded firmly. "Forever. Even if forever turns out to be 1969."

The pang he felt in his chest surprised him. "Rose, we won't be stuck here for long, I promise. We'll get the TARDIS back."

Rose nodded. "I know we will." But her eyes dropped from his face after she said that.

"Rose," the Doctor began, needing to make sure she wasn't injured or very upset with him, but he was interrupted by Harvey.

"I've been asked to thank you," Harvey said. "From all of us." He waved his arm, around, even though he was the only one left standing there with them.

"Oh, you're welcome," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Always happy to help."

"Can I give you that lift now?" Harvey asked. "To Woolworth's?"

"Well, now, that would be love-" The Doctor glanced at Rose and swiftly changed his mind. He calculated the amount of time they'd been up and running and realized that she had to be dead on her feet. "Maybe another time, Harvey. Time for us to be getting to bed."

Harvey dropped them off at their newly-rented flat.

"No hard feelings, eh, Doctor?"

The Doctor's attention was mostly on Rose, who was leaning against him, more than half asleep, her hand tucked in his.

"No hard feelings," the Doctor responded shortly, worrying about concussion. Perhaps they should go to a hospital instead, even though that would mean filling out forms and providing information they didn't really have.

At that moment Rose stirred, sitting up and meeting the Doctor's gaze with a small smile.

"Here." Harvey dug around in the glove compartment and withdrew a small red box. "Medical kit. Least I can do."

"Thanks. But the least you can do is not threaten to invade any more planets. Keep to yourselves," the Doctor advised. "There are some organizations here in Londontown that don't quite care for aliens." He opened the door, got out, and reached in again for Rose.

"Goodbye, Harvey," Rose said, smiling down at him. "Enjoy your holidays."

"Thanks, Rose. Either of you ever need a ride in London, come to us, yeah?"

"We will," Rose promised him. The Doctor tucked the medical kit under his arm, put his other arm around Rose, and ushered her into the building.

Their block of flats was reasonably clean and respectable. While certainly not luxurious, they were a far cry from the Powell Estate where Rose had grown up.

"Here we go, come on." The Doctor opened the door for Rose, gesturing solicitously for her to proceed him.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," she said humorously.

"Of course not," he agreed, not allowing her to push the door open herself. "Here we go."

She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness but stepped into the lobby. It was dark outside but the lobby was well-lit, providing plenty of light to see and proving plenty of deterrent for any potential housebreakers.

On the left side of the hallway, a door with a black number 1 on it opened a crack. Rose waved at the crack.

"Evening, Mrs. MacMurray!"

Mrs. MacMurray was the manager of the flats. She'd lived there for thirteen years and kept a strict eye on things. However society in general was going, she maintained a firm hand on the respectability of the place. She'd been suspicious of the two of them, young and attractive, looking for a place to stay together, until some carefully chosen words by Rose led her to believe that they were, possibly, a legally married couple.

This necessary subterfuge had gone over the Doctor's head. He was so used to walking around societies in different times, places and on different planets, doing just as he pleased, that cultural expectations sometimes slipped by him. Rose, growing up with her grandmother Prentiss, knew how ladies of a certain age expected things to be.

The Doctor, following Rose's wave, smiled as well. "Mrs. MacMurray! Lovely to see you! Having a good day?"

The door closed, the sound of a lock being engaged coming from the other side.

"Goodnight!" Rose called, stifling a giggle.

"She seems nice," the Doctor said genially.

Rose murmured an agreement. She didn't think he realized they were supposed to be, possibly were, a married couple. No reason to spoil things for him now. Later it might be fun to watch him blush and squirm.

Their flat was on the third floor. Rose took the stairs on her own, hand brushing on the railing. The Doctor hovered just behind and beside her, a hand at her back.

"I'm fine," Rose said. "You don't have to treat me like I'm fragile."

"I'm not!" the Doctor disagreed. "1969, Rose! I'm treating you like a gentleman would. And possibly preventing you from falling down the stairs, which is a side-effect of me, you know. Acting like a gentleman."

Rose managed the energy to laugh, but didn't say anything more.

They walked down the hallway, which was also lit up but slightly darker than the lobby. In front of number 27, the Doctor produced a key and unlocked the door. He switched on the lights and held the door open for Rose. She walked in and he locked the door behind them. He was conscious of a need for security now that the safety of the TARDIS was gone.

The flat was furnished, one of a just a few that came with furnishings and accessories necessary for living. The furniture seemed clean enough, and there were even some bits and pieces on the shelves and tables.

Rose had gone into the kitchen by the time the Doctor removed his coat and hung it on a peg. He followed her, bent on getting his way now.

"Come on," he said. "Sit down and let me look at your head."

"It's fine." Rose sat at the table and watched the Doctor fill a bowl of water, find a dishcloth, and unpack a few things from the medical kit.

"I'm sure you're fine. I'll just feel better if I make sure."

Rose was too tired to put up much of a fuss. She sat, eyes closed, and waited.

"Go an' make sure," she said. "If it'll make you feel better."

The Doctor paused, wet cloth in hand. Rose had been hurt. She could have been seriously injured today, even - his mind veered off away from that possibility. It would happen one day, but not now. Not today.

He brushed aside Rose's hair until he found the cut. It wasn't deep and was no longer bleeding. He gently washed the dried blood away, frowning in concentration.

Rose made a small sound and he stopped at once.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No. Feels good."

"You're in luck. No stitches. Already closing."

The Doctor moved forward and knelt in front of her. Holding up the sonic screwdriver, he gently turned her face towards him with a light touch on her cheek.

"Look into the light," he instructed, and Rose, humoring him, did so. He quickly checked her pupils. "No concussion."

"I'm fine," she told him. "Really." She smiled at him, trying to reassure him, but he only stood up.

"Let me heal the cut," he said. "I can sonic-"

Rose stopped him by standing up. "I'm okay, Doctor. Gonna get some sleep now, I think."

"Okay," he said instantly, feeling guilty for keeping her up. "You're tired."

"Yeah. You know us humans."

He nodded slightly.

"Goodnight," Rose said. She started to leave and paused. The Doctor held his breath as she started to speak, but then she stopped. Whatever she was going to say, he knew she had changed her mind. "Think I'll take a shower first," she said instead. "And then go to bed." She touched her head. "Thanks for the first aid."

"Oh, you're welcome," he said easily. He held his smile until she disappeared and he heard a door open farther down the hallway.

Alone now, he set the cloth in the sink and walked into the small sitting room. The furnished flat had a small sofa and two chairs. There was a small end table with a lamp, and a rickety-looking table that held a small television set. Pale blue curtains hung at the windows. Pushing them aside, he saw the street below them. Not a terrific view, but not an awful one, either. He let the drapes fall.

This was his reality, his existence, for now. These four walls and bare floor with an occasional rag rug. This place and time.

He was trapped here. The TARDIS wasn't just broken, wasn't just missing. It was igone./i Wrong time, wrong place, lost to him.

For a moment, just a brief moment, panic swelled. Then he mastered it. He would get the TARDIS back. They'd faced harder situations than this. They would not be staying in 1969.

* * *

Rose knew it was foolish to refuse the Doctor's offer to close her wound. She didn't even know why she'd done it. Still, standing in the tiny bath, looking at her reflection in the small mirror, she didn't care. Something about the intensity in his eyes, the gentleness in his hands, and the closeness of the situation had given her pause. With a sigh, she turned her attention to the here and now.

There were towels under the sink, and a bottle of shampoo and a cake of soap by the bathtub. Although she searched the sink and the medicine cabinet, she found no toothbrushes. She supposed they were fortunate to have clean towels and soap.

Stripping off her grey sweats, she folded them and set them down on the toilet. She stepped out of her bra and underpants, filled the sink with water, and scrubbed them both with the bar of soap. She hung them on the towel rack to dry, eyed her socks, and scrubbed them, too

She cleaned the bathtub with a washcloth and the soap, and then filled it with hot water. She forced herself not to think about anything while the water ran. The water was much too hot when she stepped in, but she sat down anyway.

The bath felt wonderful, like she was washing the day away. Her head hurt, when her fingers brushed the wound, but the warm water soothed it.

When she was done washing she rinsed off and drained the tub, and then some impulse made her fill the tub again with more hot water and just lie back.

The walls of the bath were a pale blue, darker and brighter once, but now faded and slightly cracking near the ceiling. There was no window, but someone had hung two framed prints of birds and flowers on the wall.

Her life with the Doctor had always been one of adventure and danger to life and limb and running. She'd loved it. She still did. But at the back of her mind there'd been the knowledge, sure and secure, that he could bring her home whenever she'd wanted.

Now home was gone and Jackie was gone, and Rose felt like she'd been running non-stop ever since she'd said goodbye to her mother. And then the TARDIS had been drawn to that house with the angels, and they'd landed here in 1969.

And then they'd landed in the midst of an alien rebellion.

Was it any wonder she was exhausted and out of sorts?

She didn't even notice the tears at first. They slid down her face and fell into the cooling bath water.

"Mum," Rose whispered. Now, of all times and places, she was homesick. She wanted her mother more than anything else in the world, and even if they got the TARDIS back, she'd never see Jackie again.

The tears slipped silently into the water, one after another.

* * *

"All right, Sally Sparrow. Sally Sparrow, Sally Sparrow," the Doctor chanted to himself.

Rose was still in the bath. He'd assumed she would come out quickly and tell him goodnight again before she went to bed. While he waited for that, he'd turned on a lamp and sat down in an easy chair that creaked alarmingly at his weight. He'd dug around in the pockets of his coat until he found the envelope.

Emptying out the contents, he looked them over. The note to him from Sally Sparrow, whoever she was. A letter, some notes scrawled on a page, some black and white photographs.

These he picked up and looked over. A man and woman from what looked like the early-twenties, standing together. The same woman, some years older, sitting with three small children.

On the bottom of the pile were several sheets of paper with random-sounding statements on them. The Doctor ran his eye down a page.

_People don't understand time. It's not what you think._

_Complicated._

_Very complicated._

Really, what was going on with this Sally Sparrow? The Doctor settled in to read some more, but he heard the bathroom door open and he jumped up, standing at attention.

Rose came into the room, stopping right at the entranceway.

"Hello," the Doctor said. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thanks." Rose smiled at him. "I'm just sayin' goodnight."

He nodded, his head going up and down as though on its own accord. "All right, then. Goodnight."

Rose smiled once more and turned and walked back down the hall. He heard a door open and close, and he realized he was standing there with his mouth open.

She had come in to say goodnight to him hundreds of times while they'd been traveling together. Nothing new there, to be sure.

But this was the first time Rose had said goodnight while wrapped up only in a thin towel. The sight had struck him positively speechless.

That, the Doctor thought faintly, sitting back down and crushing the pile of papers, was definitely a first.


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor spent the evening in an unsettled frame of mind. The TARDIS was gone. They were in 1969 with no way - currently - of getting home. A mysterious girl named Sally Sparrow had handed him an envelope that contained the keys to getting out of 1969, but it looked like he had only part of the information required. And Rose...well, he resolved not to think about Rose, wet and pink from a bath, wrapped only in a towel...

The Doctor cleared his throat and forced his thoughts away. That was not an appropriate way of thinking about his companion. It was iRose/i, his best friend in the universe. To think of her that way would only complicate their friendship. She was young and human he was an alien, and it was just absurd.

And Jackie Tyler might be gone to another universe, but she would still slap him silly if she knew the direction his thoughts were heading.

After looking over the papers and not seeing anything that screamed "Here's how you do it! Be home before morning!" the Doctor turned on the television. He was just in time to see the late-night newscaster sign off for the evening. He sighed and turned the tv off. On impulse, he turned the set around, smiled, and shook his head ruefully. It was a Magpie Electricals set.

"Good for you," the Doctor murmured. "Nice to see some things don't change."

Dropping back onto the couch, he looked around the small room. The lamp cast odd shadows on the walls. There were no books or magazines in sight. He could walk down and find an open shop, he supposed. Get some food, find something to keep him occupied until morning.

He stayed where he was. He was oddly reluctant to leave the flat while Rose was sleeping.

In the end his stomach won. He shrugged into his coat and, ignoring the key the landady had given them, used the sonic screwdriver on the lock. No one would be getting in without him. It would have to do.

* * *

Rose woke up to sounds of traffic in the street outside. Someone in the flat above was taking a shower. She could faintly hear the crying of a baby.

Just like home, she thought, and rolled over and hid her head beneath the pillow.

A moment later she remembered where she was and why she was there. Sitting up, she looked around the bedroom. One bed, made up with white sheets and a plain blue and white quilt. She peered closely at the quilt. It was very pretty and looked handmade, and she was a bit surprised that it was just laying around in a furnished flat.

Across the room from the bed was a dresser. The mirror suspended above it reflected Rose, sitting up in bed with no clothes on. She yawned and lazily pulled the sheet up to her chin. There was a small table next to the bed, and the clock showed that it was eight o'clock. Rose had no idea if that was the correct time or not. The Doctor would tell her the time when she asked, right down to the last nano-second.

She stood up and wrapped the towel around her body again. She stuck her head out the door, looked around for the Doctor and hurried for the bathroom when she didn't see him the door, she dropped both towel and sheet and hastily tugged on her underthings. They were thankfully dry, as were her socks. Rose splashed water on her face and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to remove the worst of the snarls.

She looked at herself in the mirror and was surprised to see the sparkle in her own eyes. She was no longer upset. She still missed Jackie, of course, she always would. But she was here now, and she was with the Doctor. Given the choice, this is where she would want to be. Now all they had to do was solve this mess. It was an adventure, and she was as excited as she had been on any other adventure. Rose smiled at herself.

Wearing her grey sweats and white t-shirt and carrying her hoodie jacket, she set out to find the Doctor. It wasn't hard to do. He was in the living room, watching telly, reading the morning paper, and eating buttered toast. Her stomach growled impatiently and Rose flushed from embarrassment.

"Good morning!" He jumped up, scattering newsprint and crumbs. "Sleep well?"

"I did, yeah. You?" Rose sat down in the chair beside the sofa.

"Rose. You know I don't sleep! Well, hardly ever," he amended. "Hungry? You must be hungry after all the fun we had yesterday. Toast? The toaster in the kitchen was a bit dodgy, but luckily I have the sonic screwdriver. The toast is perfectly toasted." He held out the plate, presenting it to her as if it contained a wealth of edible delicacies instead of buttered toast.

She accepted the plate with a smile of thanks. "Did you do the shopping?" she asked, amused.

"There's a shop just down the street and around the corner," he said, sitting back down. "Lovely woman runs it. She's called Mrs. Kirby and she sells the most delicious sticky buns! Makes them herself."

Rose looked around, not seeing any sticky buns. She looked back at the Doctor with her eyebrows raised.

"Well," he said guiltily, "they were very good. We'll get you a sticky bun later," he promised.

"Toast is fine," Rose reassured him, taking a bite. "What's going on?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the television.

"Americans are planning a flight to the moon," the Doctor said casually. "I imagine they'll be walking on the surface around, oh, July 20?"

Rose smiled in delight. "Are you kidding me? We'll get to watch Neil Armstrong walk on the moon?"

"He'll take a giant leap for mankind," the Doctor agreed solemnly.

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" she said. "To think that we'll see it happen!"

"I could have taken you there any time you wanted," the Doctor pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is different. We'll be here!"

The Doctor sighed. "All of time and space, and you've never been happier than now that we're stuck here."

"Could be worse," she pointed out, finishing her toast. "Could be a black hole."

"You could have spaghetti coming out of your mouth," the Doctor agreed, and laid his hand underneath of his chin, affecting an Ood-voice. "We must leave. We must leave! We must leave... here."

Rose laughed and tousled his hair as she walked back. "That's just a little bit creepy, you know."

The Doctor beamed. "Been working on that for ages!"

They ate more toast, channel surfed - much faster when your choices were limited to just a few channels and you had to stand up to change the channel every time - and looked over the newspaper for any local news that might be of interest.

None of it was, but Rose enjoyed reading the comics page anyway.

Leaving the Doctor with the telly, she quickly tidied up the kitchen, putting way the groceries he'd carried home and washing the bowl he'd used the night before to clean her head. Lightly touching her scalp, she decided that it was healing just fine without any more intervention.

Rose cleaned up the small bath and made the bed. It was almost like living back home with Jackie, she thought wryly. Back then she'd done most of the cleaning and washing up. At least the Doctor had made breakfast for her.

When she was done she returned to the living room. The Doctor had turned off the television and was studying a stack of photographs. Rose recognized them as the house they'd been standing in when they'd been sent back to this time.

"Are we gonna go write on some walls?" she asked, pulling on her jacket and pulling the zip up. "I'm ready for action."

The Doctor glanced over as she spoke. His gaze was level with the zip on her jacket, and he seemed to be staring at nothing for a moment.

"Doctor?" Rose prompted when he didn't move or say anything. "You all right?"

The Doctor was not all right. In fact, he was not at all feeling like himself. He blinked and shook his head to clear it. "Walls. Writing on them. Yes." He put the photographs back in the envelope and slid it into his coat pocket, determined to wipe out the image of Rose's t-shirt, snug and white and clearly showing the outline of her bra underneath. What was wrong with him? Time Lords did not have this sort of reaction. Well, they usually didn't. He seemed to react that way around Rose Tyler with increasing frequency.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Here you go." He reached into a pocket and pulled something out. "One final step here, and we'll be on our way."

Rose accepted the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste with an excited squeal.

"Mine's blue," he said. "Thought you might like the pink one."

"Yay! Thank you!" She gave him a quick hug before dashing back to the bathroom.

* * *

"I'm ready for Woolworth's!" Rose declared as they stepped onto the street. "Any idea where it is?"

"Not too far, as it happens." The Doctor took her hand in his as they walked, telling himself firmly that this was just another ordinary day. No reason to suddenly feel excited just because Rose Tyler was holding his hand.

At Woolworth's they gathered up as many mirrors as they could get.

"Are you sure we need iall/i of these?" Rose asked, steadying the shopping cart as the Doctor added yet another full-length mirror. They were pretty cheap, but there had to be at least eight in the cart so far.

The Doctor studied the display of mirrors. "Maybe, maybe not. But we'll be ready." He grinned at her and headed down another aisle, his brown coat flapping behind him.

Rose caught the glance of a woman standing nearby. She was tall and blonde, her hair massively teased and sprayed in place on top of her head. She wore a blue minidress and matching eyeshadow, and she was looking at Rose with a suspicious expression.

Rose couldn't blame her. She and the Doctor were not dressed for 1969, and Rose's bare face and straight, smooth bob were out of place as well. She said the first thing that popped into her head, even though the Doctor would not have considered any explanations to be necessary.

"We're opening a dance studio," Rose explained, gesturing to the mirrors.

The woman smiled absently and walked away.

Rose shook her head and followed the Doctor. She was distracted by a display of makeup. Blue and green eyeshadows seemed to be the popular colors of the day, along with pale lipsticks and very dark mascara. Rose picked up a package of black mascara, reading the package. It was similar to the stuff she used to buy at Boots, but it was just different enough to remind her that she was in an older time.

She dropped the mascara into the shopping cart and was reaching for a blue eyeshadow - just to see what it would look like - when the Doctor came back.

"Rose! Come on. Lots to do today."

"Just a sec." Rose passed over the eyeshadows and picked up a tube of pink lipstick.

"Come on!" the Doctor said again, taking the shopping cart and wheeling it away from Rose.

"You're bein' rude, you know," Rose told his back.

He didn't hear her, hurrying through the aisle with the shopping cart. Rose sighed a huge sigh - just for her own benefit, since the Doctor certainly wasn't paying any attention - and followed.

"Where are you going?" she asked, catching up and putting the lipstick in the cart.

"Found some stands," he said, and would explain no more until they were in front of the display.

Rose stood and looked at the shelf of wooden stands. "What are they?'' she asked.

He seemed disappointed that she wasn't as excited as he was.

"The mirrors are meant to hang on walls, but what we need are mirrors that can support themselves. That way we can prop them up in front of a Weeping Angel and make it look at itself! Then it can't move!" He beamed at her proudly, waiting for her to acknowledge his brilliance.

Rose nodded. "That's a good idea!"

"I know!"

Giggling like fools, they added the stands to the cart.

"They come with some screws," the Doctor said. "I'll just sonic them to the mirrors and we'll be all set."

Rose picked up one of the stands and turned it over in her hand. "Will they support the mirrors?"

"Oh, I'll give 'em a boost of power."

Once the cart was loaded, Rose waited for the Doctor to head to the front of the store. He stood there, staring at the cart. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out the envelope again. Shuffling through some photos, he studied one and then nodded.

"We need black paint and some brushes," he said, and looked around the store. "Does Woolworth's have paint?"

Luckily this one had a can of black paint and brushes, and they set off to pay for everything.

"Sunglasses," the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by a display.

"Sunglasses?" Rose echoed. Honestly, sometimes she could not keep up with the way his mind worked. It wasn't particularly sunny outside today.

"Sunglasses," the Doctor pronounced. He plucked two pairs of glasses from the display and kept going, pushing the shopping cart ahead of him. Rose tried to take control of the cart and was firmly pushed aside.

"I have it," he said, and it was a bit unlike him, enough so that Rose blinked in surprise. Usually he was happy to have her push shopping carts while he wandered the aisles wherever they happened to be, adding things at random.

At the register, the Doctor unloaded the mirrors, the stands, the sunglasses, and Rose's makeup. The mascara and lipstick made him pause, but one look at Rose told him not to make an issue of it.

"That will be twenty-four pounds," the salesclerk said, and the Doctor dug that amount out of his suit pocket. Rose didn't question where he got the money, but the Doctor glanced at her a bit guiltily. He must have gotten more than food when he went out last night while she was sleeping.

Well, she wasn't going to complain. She'd find a job so they'd have a legitimate source of income, and then they could figure out how to get out of here.

"We're never gonna walk with all this, are we?" Rose asked once they were outside on the street. Their hands were pretty full of mirrors.

"Nah, of course not! Here we are!" The Doctor went to the curb and raised a hand. Almost instantly a taxi pulled over.

The Doctor peered in. The driver had a gold hoop earring and a stuffed parrot perched on the dashboard. Perfect.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is Rose. Have you heard of us?"

"Blimey, but I've heard of you!" The driver hopped out to open the back door of the car for Rose. "You got me three weeks' paid holiday, you did!"

Rose smiled at him and allowed him to urge her into the car. The driver popped open the boot and helped the Doctor set the Woolworth's bags inside. The Doctor handed Rose the can of black paint.

"You folks redecorating some?"

"Something like that."

"Lotta mirrors there! They for the bedroom?" The driver nudged the Doctor's arm in a far-too-familiar way, grinning.

Rose, sitting inside the car but able to hear every word, rolled her eyes. Males were males no matter where they came from, sometimes. She was surprised to see the Doctor flush.

She was still staring as he gave the driver a stern look and got into the cab beside Rose.

"It's warm out here," he complained when he saw her looking at him.

"Seriously? It's kind of cool this morning," she said innocently, and he frowned at her.

"Where to?" the driver asked before the Doctor could think of a reply.

* * *

"Wester Drumlins! Here we are!" The Doctor opened the door and hopped out, letting Rose climb out and shut the door behind them. He retrieved the mirrors from the boot and set them on the ground.

"Thank you, Davey," Rose said to the driver. The Doctor had been quieter than usual on the ride over, and Davey had filled in the silence with tales of crazy human passengers.

"You're welcome, Rose! No, no need to pay the fare!" he added when she looked around for the Doctor and motioned that he should pay. "Never need to pay us, not the two of you!" And Davey was off in his yellow cab.

"He was nice," Rose said, staring after him.

"Yes," the Doctor said shortly, still a bit miffed about the mirrors-for-the-bedroom comment.

Rose was about to ask what was wrong when she looked beyond the Doctor into the yard. She shivered. The house looked as empty and deserted as when they had first seen it, even though it was several decades earlier than before.

"Do you see any of those statues?" she asked, her heart starting to race at the thought.

"No." The Doctor pulled out the sunglasses he had bought. They were plain and cheap, and Rose wasn't sure why he had bothered with them. Then the Doctor took out the sonic screwdriver and aimed them at the lenses. Suddenly the cheap lenses gained a reflective surface. He handed a pair to Rose.

"Put those on," he told her. "Hold up a mirror. If one shows up, they'll see their reflection in the lenses and freeze. Then you can set the mirror down in front of it."

Rose put on the sunglasses. The reflective lenses looked out of place in the white plastic frame.

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

"Is this gonna work?"

He'd sonicced his own cheap sunglasses and put them on, and was sitting on the ground affixing stands to mirrors so they could be propped upright.

"All we need to do, Rose, is get to the front room on the main floor. I'll paint the message, you stay on the watch."

Rose couldn't hide her nervousness. "What if I don't guard very well?"

"Well, now, that's an interesting question," the Doctor started, his interest clearly caught, and Rose sighed because she knew that once he began in that tone of voice he was capable of lecturing for quite a bit of time. "They've already sent us back once. Our potential futures are already gone, used up."

"So we're already...dried up?"

"Sort of."

"What of we're not, though? What if there's still juice in us and we get sent back even farther in time?" She was unaccountably, unreasonably afraid. "What if we get sent back to different places and we never find each other?"

"Rose." The Doctor stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

Rose let out her breath and held on, grateful for the contact.

His lips brushed the side of her head. "Okay?" he asked her.

Rose nodded. "Yeah." She stepped back and sniffed.

"Remember, they want the TARDIS," he reminded her. "If they can get into it everything is done for. We have to do everything the letter says and get it back before they can break into it."

"I know," Rose said, resolved now to do whatever had to be done. "Let's go."

* * *

Rose stood nervously at the doorway, shifting from foot to foot, whirling occasionally to check over her shoulder for the presence of angels. She was holding a mirror and wearing dark sunglasses in an already dim house, and her fear warred with her sense of the ridiculous for dominance.

Overhead, she heard something thump. She gasped and looked up. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"This is going to work, yeah?"

"Absolutely. They're quantum-locked, the angels are. We'll just have to keep an eye on them, is all."

Thump. Thump. Rose's heart leapt to her throat and pounded away insistently. "Do you hear that?"

"Yep!" The Doctor seemed almost cheerful. "Just making sure I've got this right... Rose, come have a look! I don't want to accidentally cause a paradox."

Rose walked backwards, looking left, then right, as she backed into the room with the large windows. A quick glance over in that direction ripped a scream from her throat.

"What?" The Doctor whirled and grabbed a mirror, freezing one of the angels just outside, its hands outstretched and open, a look of rage on its face. "One down, three to go."

"Doctor, if we freeze them now, won't they still be frozen when Sally Sparrow comes?"

"Nope!" The Doctor bounced on his heels. "Lots of people come out here between 1969 and 2007, Rose. One of them will move the mirrors. Humans are so delightfully bad at letting things be."

"All right. That's... reassuring, I suppose." Rose glanced at the writing the Doctor had so painstakingly rendered.

BEWARE!

OH, AND DUCK! REALLY DUCK!

SALLY SPARROW

DUCK, NOW

LOVE FROM THE DOCTOR (1969)

"I quite like the 'love from the Doctor'," he said thoughtfully. "It's a nice touch, don't you think?"

"Lovely," Rose said, bending down to help him secure the lid on a can of paint. "Let's get out of here quick, all right?"

"Yes." The Doctor jumped to his feet. "See, that wasn't so – Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"We were both looking down just now."

They whirled and froze another angel right at the door. Rose positioned one of the mirrors so it would remain stuck that way.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. "Can we go now?" She was willing to walk all the way back to London, if it meant getting away from the house and its spooky atmosphere.

"One last thing," the Doctor said suddenly, stopping by the door. He pulled out the stack of photographs again, and Rose thought that she'd better find something for him to carry them in, or they'd fall apart pretty quickly.

"No," he muttered. "Not here." He put the photos away and found a small sheet of paper. The writing wasn't the curved Gallifreyan script he usually used, and Rose turned her head to look at it.

"Sally Sparrow says that one of the angels had a key in its hand," the Doctor told Rose. "A key to the TARDIS."

"So they got hold of one," Rose said.

"Yep." The Doctor paused. "Which means they must have gotten hold of one of ours. Which means that we have to leave one of ours for them to find."

It wasn't hard to figure out where he was heading.

"My TARDIS key?" Rose protested. One hand went to the key, hanging around her neck.

"You'll get it back," the Doctor said. "I promise."

She bit her lip. He smiled and stepped close to her, lifting the chain at the back of her neck.

"I know what it means to you," he said quietly, sliding the key up and out from under Rose's t-shirt. "You'll get it back."

She tried to nod but couldn't. She pulled the chain over her head and held the key tightly in her palm for a moment. He covered her hand with his own.

"Rose, it will be all right. I promise you."

She let go of the key, surrendering it to him.

The Doctor felt terrible. He was merely asking for a key, one that he'd given out to companions before Rose, and she was crying. He hated to make her cry, but they needed to leave a way into the TARDIS for Sally Sparrow.

"Here," he said suddenly. He slipped the key off the chain and handed the chain back to Rose. "You hold onto this. You'll need it for the key once we get back home."

Rose held onto the chain. "What will you put the key on, then?"

He dug around in his pockets and came up with a length of twine. "Here we go! Perfect." He tied the twine around the key, tied the ends in a knot, and looked around. He hung it from the hand of one of the frozen angels. Then he grabbed Rose's hand.

"Run, Rose Tyler!"

* * *

They didn't stop running until they were well away from the house and into town again. Then they collapsed against each other, adrenaline finally kicking in.

"We made it!" Rose exclaimed, hugging the Doctor happily. "We did it!"

"We are amazing," he agreed, hugging her back.

Rose smiled happily and lifted her chain. "Feels so much lighter without the key," she said, and the Doctor stopped her before she could put it back on.

"I think I have just the thing for that," he said, and began digging around his pockets again.

Rose watched in amusement. There was no telling what he had in there. Sometimes she suspected he dropped things in and purposely forgot about them, just to be surprised weeks and months and even years later.

"Here we go." He pulled out a small, black velvet pouch. Loosening the ties, he poured out the contents into his palm and held it out for Rose to see.

She blinked in surprise. A small silver key lay there, impossibly shiny. Next to it was a smaller, heart-shaped lock.

The Doctor cleared his throat when she didn't say anything. "I found them in a bazaar while I was looking for parts for the TARDIS on Valentine Five."

Rose nodded, her eyes still on the tiny charms in his hand.

"I, er, thought of you," the Doctor continued. "They seemed like something you would like. If you don't, though-"

"No, I love them!" Rose rushed to assure him. She picked up the key and threaded it onto her chain, then added the lock. She didn't know if he was avoiding the obvious symbolism of the gift, or if it simply hadn't occurred to him. Longings that she had not allowed herself to feel started to surface, and she quickly blinked away sudden tears before looking up at him again.

"They're gorgeous," she stated. "Thank you." She slipped the chain over her head. While she always put the chain with its TARDIS key inside her shirts, she left it out now, with the small silver key and lock hanging for all to see.

The Doctor nodded, his eyes on the charms. It was entirely possible, he thought to himself, that he'd never before thought about what it would mean, for him to give Rose Tyler not only his heart, but the key to unlock it.


	8. Chapter 8

"We should have had that alien-pirate-cab driver wait for us," the Doctor remarked, looking around the lawns of Wester Drumlins. "It'll be a bit of a hike back to civilization."

Rose twirled her new jewelry on her chain. "That's okay. We've walked before. 'Sides, we couldn't have asked Davey to risk getting sent back in time."

"Couldn't we?" But the question was rhetorical. "Right. Come on, then, Rose Tyler." He held out his arm to her and she took it, sliding her own through it.

"Those stone angels at the house sent us back to this time," Rose said thoughtfully. "That's a ways in the future. Why are they here now?"

"Oh, who knows? Maybe this is where they lie in wait for victims. Maybe this is the time they arrive here looking for victims, or it could be a favorite hunting ground."

He was sounding awfully unconcerned. "You mean it's just a coincidence that they were there today?" Rose demanded. "Come on!"

"What?" the Doctor asked defensively. "Don't you believe in coincidences?"

"Sometimes," she allowed. "Sometimes, yeah. That's why they're coincidences, aren't they? But those Angels bein' here the same time as us is just strange, that's all."

He thought about it some more. "Maybe they spotted us in the house and decided they needed a snack. Maybe we're the reason they stayed. Easy hunting."

Rose had no trouble following his logic. "You mean they happened to be there, and they decided to stay 'cos we wandered by?"

"Maybe. Makes sense, anyway."

"We're here because they sent us back in time. And while we were back in time we found them and convinced them it's a nice house to live in while waiting for food," Rose said slowly. "Is that what you're saying?"

The Doctor considered this. "Yes, I am. It's as plausible an explanation as any other."

"That's just weird," she muttered.

"Not weird, Rose! Time isn't a straight line, after all! It's fluid! We can move backwards and forwards in time, altering events that haven't happened yet, changing things-"

"I thought tampering with established timelines is strictly forbidden?"

"Mostly, yeah. But only if that's your intent. Being here the same time as the Stone Angels was an accident. One of those timey-timey things that are so fun." He squeezed her hand and set off. "Eventually we'll find a bus stop. I hope."

"You know," Rose began as they walked along the country lane, "I need to get a job. You have a lot of work to do, I reckon, with all that stuff in the envelope to figure out. We'll need to pay our rent and buy food while you do that."

"But who'll help me if you're at a job?" he protested, even though he knew she was right.

"You'll be fine," she said with a grin. "You don't need me at all."

"Oh, but I do."

"Besides," Rose continued, opting not to notice that new note in his voice when he said he needed her, "someone has to pay for our new clothes." She sent him a mischievous look.

"New clothes?" He looked down at his brown suit. "Why do we need new clothes?"

Rose rolled her eyes. His idea of a new look had always been changing his jumper or adding a new tie.

"We can't walk around in the same clothes every day," she reminded him. "Not here. There's no TARDIS to clean and press your stuff or make you up a new suit. We'll have to assimilate."

The Doctor was dismayed. "I don't _want_ to assimilate. I never assimilate."

"It's either assimilate or have that lovely suit fall apart from washings," Rose retorted, and the Doctor sighed.

"I hate local fashions."

* * *

On the way home Rose insisted they stop for a few things. The Doctor had twenty pounds left, and she thought they might as well use it up.

"But we just went shopping!" he protested.

"That was for stuff we needed! Now this is other stuff we need."

"What other stuff could we possibly need?" he wanted to know. Rose ignored him. He was very capable of spending hours lingering over miscellaneous bits and bobs, searching for replacement parts for the TARDIS, but let her show an interest in something and he got impatient.

Rose bought a hairbrush and a can of hairspray larger than any she'd ever seen, handing them to the Doctor to hold. One of the best things about him was that he was very rarely embarrassed. He thought nothing of trailing behind Rose, holding onto parcels and items of a feminine nature, even if he might complain while he was doing it.

"Here we are!" Rose had stopped at a display of magazines and added several fashion magazines to the pile in the Doctor's arms.

He glanced down at the one on top. "Are these really necessary?"

"Yeah! I need to know what I ought to look like, right?"

"You look fine now," he protested, and she really did. Her hair was straight and shining, her cheeks still faintly flushed from their encounter with the Weeping Angels. He gazed at her for so long that she flushed and looked away.

"Well, thanks, but I want to blend in here."

Once back at the flat she declined the Doctor's offer of lunch and disappeared into the tiny bathroom with all of her parcels.

The Doctor amused himself by watching _Coronation Street_. It was 67 minutes later - not that he was keeping track - before Rose finally appeared. He gaped at her.

"Rose?"

She grinned. Her eyelashes were coated in black mascara, and her lids were painted a bright blue. Her lips were a pretty pale pink that instantly made him think all sorts of improper thoughts.

When he was able to pull his eyes away from Rose's mouth, he saw that her hair had been curled and teased into a smooth bouffant.

"Rose?" he said again.

She grinned, delighted with his reaction. "Isn't it cool? I think I fit right in."

"You do," he assured her. "Yeah, you do."

She frowned uncertainly. "Do I not look all right? What's wrong?"

She looked beautiful, but Rose was always beautiful to him. He was frowning because her beauty right at the moment was more than he seemed able to handle.

"You do," he managed to say.

"Thought I'd try an' find a job," she said, sitting down next to him. "There are lots of shops around here, did you see?"

He still wasn't happy with the idea, but if they were going to be here any length of time, they would need money.

"I could find a job myself," the Doctor heard himself say. "There's always UNIT-"

"Not UNIT!" she protested. "What would happen if you met yourself? And don't go off looking for Torchwood, either," she added for good measure. "Once you got involved in something there you'd never want to leave. 'Sides," she continued, poking him lightly in the chest, "you need to figure a way out of this place."

He caught the hand that was touching his chest, holding it in place. "Do you think I can?"

"Of course." This was said simply and immediately. "Of course you can, Doctor."

Beneath her hand the double beat of his heart tripped and sped up. His eyes, wide and intense, searched hers. Rose's lips parted.

"I'll get you back home," he promised quietly.

"I know, Doctor." Without being aware of it Rose leaned in closer to him. The pressure on her hand increased as he slowly drew her in to him. She was almost sitting in his lap, about to launch herself the rest of the way just so she could kiss him the way she'd been longing to for so long, when they were both startled by the shrill ringing of a telephone, right next to the heads.

The Doctor jumped and let go of Rose's hand. She fell back onto the sofa, almost losing her balance and tipping onto the floor.

The Doctor stared wildly at the black telephone beside him before picking it up. "Hello? No, sorry. You've the wrong number." He hung up, barely able to make eye contact with Rose. He didn't know what to say, but she beat him to it.

"I'll be back in a bit!" She jumped up and was opening the door before he could twist around on the sofa. "See ya!"

The Doctor fell back against the cushions as the door closed. What was getting into him?

* * *

"All right," Rose muttered to herself, walking down the street. "You have no ID, no papers, no references. You won't be born for another seventeen years. But you can find a job. A shop's just a shop."

And with that pep talk, she walked into the first shop on the street.

No ID and no references don't get you very far in London. That, along with Rose's odd clothes, made most shop managers decline to offer her employment. She couldn't get a job with a dress shop, a toy shop, or a small store that sold only cheese and wine.

At the fourth place, her courage in place but her morale rather low, she stopped by the door. She would try here, and then head on home. She was hungry and tired, and the mascara was making her eyes itch.

"Welcome to Helio," a bubbly brunette said as Rose pushed open the door and walked inside. "What can I help you find?"

Rose smiled, feeling instantly at ease. The other girl looked to be in her early twenties. Her dark hair was twisted up in a high knot, and she wore a bright red minidress and matching shoes.

"Actually, I'm looking for a job," Rose said, gathering her courage up again. "Are you hiring? I just got into London and I really need a job."

The brunette hesitated. "As a matter of fact, I am. My last girl just...left. To get married. Have you worked in sales before?"

Rose smiled. "Yeah, I have. Worked in a department store for a while."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. 'Til it got blown up." Rose winced as she said the words, but the brunette laughed.

"I've had a few jobs like that! Sometimes it's better to burn your bridges, isn't it? I'm Iris. When can you start?"

* * *

The Doctor was getting worried. Rose had been gone for several hours. Although he had not doubt she could take care of herself, he didn't like to not be able to contact her. He could try calling her superphone and seeing if it would get signal without any cellular towers nearby, but if she pulled out her mobile there might be some questions asked.

He was just deciding to go out and track Rose down with the sonic screwdriver when the flat's door opened.

He abandoned the papers he'd been looking at and jumped up.

"Hello!" Rose said cheerfully.

"Hello. Where've you been?" He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to act casual, like he hadn't just spent the past eight-three minutes, seventeen seconds thinking only of her and where she could be and what she might be doing.

"I got a _job_!" she cried. "Isn't that great?"

"You did?" A delighted smile spread across his face. "You're brilliant! Where?"

"At a little clothing shop down the street! It's called Helio and I started today. The manager's called Iris!"

"Iris," the Doctor echoed. "Well, that's lovely. All you need is a Daisy and a Lily and you'd have a full staff."

"Maybe a Dahlia. Anyway, Iris gave me an advance to buy some clothes and stuff."

"That was very generous of her," the Doctor said. "Do new employees normally get an advance right off?"

"And I get an employee discount," Rose continued, ignoring this.

"Off regular pricing, or off the lowest sale price?"

"_And_ commission! They sell ladies' clothing and accessories. And shoes! What they don't sell," Rose said, "is men's clothes. We'll have to go shopping someplace else for you."

"I'm _fine_."

"You're not wearin' that same suit every day while we're here! You'll forget to wash it, or you'll lose the jacket someplace, and then what'll you do with no TARDIS to replace it?"

"I'm not entirely dependent on the TARDIS," he started to say, but Rose shook her head.

"Don't even start. That ship took care of everything for you. Now that we're here we have to live like everyone else."

The Doctor regarded her with no expression on his face. For someone who didn't do domestic, he was certainly in the thick of it.

"We're not like everyone else, Rose," he said. "Remember?"

She shook her head. "We are for now."


	9. Chapter 9

The Doctor enjoyed shopping – a very particular kind of a shopping. A kind of shopping that this was not. He could happily spend hours looking for parts he could use on the TARDIS. Hunting local bargains was a thrill for him. Trying out local cuisines and observing alien cultures throughout time and space never got old. Bargaining...ah, bargaining for anything was almost as much fun as traveling through time and space. The Bantillan peoples were insulted if you didn't haggle and counter-offer at least six times, for example. Thrilling and exciting, especially if they felt insulted and pulled a weapon on you.

Clothes shopping, on the other hand, was not fun. The TARDIS supplied him with all the brown suits, shirts and ties he could desire. Plimsolls were his for the choosing. The same was true of his companions, even though Rose preferred shopping in actual shops for her clothes. On occasion she would make use of the wardrobe room to find a specific costume, but she even preferred bringing her dirty laundry home to Jackie over letting the TARDIS take care of it all.

For a moment guilt washed over him. They had no TARDIS to provide clothing for them, and Jackie was in another universe where Rose could never follow. How was he going to get them out of this?

Rose pulled him out of his thoughts. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh, yes!" he assured her insincerely. "Yes, I did."

Her expression told him she knew he hadn't been listening. Rose waited.

"Er...was it very important?" he inquired.

She rolled her eyes and dropped his hand as they drew up to the shop.

"What?" the Doctor asked, rather surprised to find himself feeling upset that she had let go of his hand and was walking on ahead. He skipped and rushed ahead to catch up with her.

"Nothing," Rose said with a sigh. "Come on."

The Doctor looked up at the sign above the doors.

"Marks and Spencer?" he asked doubtfully.

Rose looked at him impatiently, rather the way one might look at an uncooperative toddler. "Where else would we find clothes for you?" she asked. "I'm not exactly familiar with the shops around here. The London I know doesn't exist yet."

The Doctor looked thoughtful. Rose had a feeling he was flipping through some mental rolodex. Sometimes she wondered what secrets he kept. Sometimes she wished he would share them with her.

"This will do," the Doctor said finally. "Come on, then!" He took her arm and opened the door for her with his free hand. "Here we go! Ladies' clothing, this way."

"We're looking for you, remember?" she reminded him.

"You first. I know you - always needing new clothes for every occasion."

"Well, I can hardly walk around in the same outfit, can I?" Rose asked. "I'll leave that to you."

"Oi!"

Standing in the midst of the ladies' department, Rose was overwhelmed by the choices. Bright florals, plaids and checks, eye-popping solids. The colors were incredibly vivid. And the fabrics...

"This feels weird," she said to the Doctor in a low voice, running a length of green fabric through her fingers.

He put on his glasses and peered at the material. "Polyethylene terephthalate. Long-chain polymers chemically composed of an ester and a dihydric alcohol along with terephthalic acid."

Rose looked down at it. "Feels like bad polyester."

"Yes, that's what I said." The Doctor took off his glasses and tucked them in his pocket. "Polyester. Very popular in this time period. This is the space age, Rose! Time for a space age fabric."

Rose didn't care for the feel of the material and hated to think of it against her skin. She put it back and began wandering the racks, trying to reconcile her twenty-first century notions of clothing with what was available to her now.

"Can I help you?" said a voice at her elbow.

Rose looked up to see a woman about her mum's age standing there with a smile. She wore a nametag pinned to her blue polyester pantsuit. Rose blinked at the color - it was a bright aqua with a pink check. A pink blouse was underneath the jacket, wide lapels spread against the collar.

"I'm just looking for some new clothes," Rose told her.

The saleswoman - the tag said her name was Julie - looked her up and down and nodded.

"Of course. Let's see what we can do for you."

Rose tugged self-consciously at her hoodie top. Did she really stand out so much? Her pants covered her legs, which was more than she could say for that brunette standing a few feet away. That woman wore a minidress that was indecent under any circumstances. The fact that she was smiling at the Doctor made Rose frown.

Before she could head over to the Doctor and make it clear that they were together, the Doctor, ever oblivious to most social situations, headed over to her.

"I'll just stroll around the store, shall I?" he asked Rose.

"Don't run off," she warned him. "You need something to wear, too."

"I promise I won't run off," he said dutifully. Rose noticed he did not mention going to look for clothing, but just then the salesclerk came up with a dress in each hand, and Rose had to let him go.

"Okay, then," she said, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face. Just because it was looking a bit wind-blown, she thought to herself. Not to show anyone who might be watching that they were together.

Because they weren't. Even though they were. Well, sort of.

Rose gave up on trying to justify her actions. She was pleased, though, to see that he didn't so much as glance at the brunette as he walked away, even though the brunette's eyes followed him all the way down the escalator.

In the end Rose went into a fitting room with an armful of dresses, trousers and jumpers. The salesclerk was happy to help her with sizing.

"What about undergarments?"' Julie asked. She and Rose were now on very good terms. "You're not one of those girls who refuses to wear a brassiere, are you?"

She looked so worried that Rose swallowed a laugh.

"Uh, no. Definitely not," she assured Julie. "I, er, like support."

"I think the young men appreciate a bit of lift and support, myself," Julie confided. "Makes the figure so much more attractive."

"Oh, absolutely." Rose nodded. "And I do need some...some undergarments." 1969 was turning into the oddest mixture of free love and conservatism.

Luckily the fashions of this period weren't as awful as Rose had thought they'd be. She picked out a green dress with a matching leather belt that she fancied looked rather cute on her. It wasn't as short as some other dresses she'd tried on, and she thought it would be nice for work. She also added a pair of jeans and a few slacks and matching tops. Her trainers were a plain white and would work for a few more days. She made a mental note to stop in the shoe department for something with a heel.

The undergarments Julie had brought for her inspection weren't exactly Victoria's Secret, but the stuff was very pretty. She picked out a few sets of bras and underpants, unable to resist the pink and white material. The briefs, far from being something her gran might have worn, were actually quite skimpy and cute, just like the bikinis and thongs she was used to wearing. Rose hoped that she had enough money for it all. Otherwise the Doctor would have to work his magic with the psychic paper again, and that would make her feel a bit guilty.

She had some money left over after she paid for her things, and Rose gratefully thanked Julie and gathered her carrier bags. Hoping the Doctor hadn't left the actual building, she checked the store directory and went to the menswear department. She was happy to see him standing there, looking around in some dismay.

"These are bellbottoms, Rose," he said seriously as she walked up to him. "I just cannot wear bellbottoms."

Something prompted Rose to say, "Those jeans over there look nice."

The Doctor closed his eyes. The jeans looked like they'd been through a paper shredder.

"No," he said decisively. "I won't do it."

"You once wore a toga in ancient Rome!" Rose said in a whisper. "I don't think jeans are much of a stretch after that, yeah?"

But he refused. His refusal led them to their first fight in 1969. It was more of an argument than a fight, begun when Rose accused him of being difficult.

"Me! Difficult?" The Doctor looked insulted. "I'm the most-easy going person you'll ever meet."

Rose held up a pair of trousers and shook them. "Then why won't you try these on?"

He stared at her as though she'd just asked him what color the sky was today. "Rose, they're houndstooth. Houndstooth!"

"Houndstooth. Fine. But what's wrong with this sweater?" Rose held up her other hand, where a limp blue sweater hung on a hanger.

"It's got no pockets." The Doctor tried out a smile on her, but it was no use. Rose was rapidly reminding him of her mother.

"What's it matter if it's got no pockets?" she demanded, her voice very close to a Jackie Tyler - range screech.

"Rose, I need pockets. Where will I put the sonic screwdriver?"

Rose dropped the sweater and trousers where she stood and walked away.

By the time they found items conservative enough for him Rose was starving. He agreed to try things on for size, but declined to come out and show her how they looked. She was rather disappointed by that.

"Do you really need dress shirts and ties?" Rose asked. "You're a handsome bloke, you can blend in with this stuff. We'll tell everyone you're a student. It'll be cheaper that way."

Her words diverted the Doctor. "A handsome bloke?" he repeated, waggling his eyebrows at her and sticking out his tongue, before he abruptly turned serious. "Really?"

Something passed between them, something new. They'd flirted plenty of times before, but this felt different to Rose. Different and exciting. She swallowed, her response somehow more important than it had ever been.

"I'll set these items over by the register," the salesclerk said, coming up to them and taking the clothes out of Rose's hands. "I have a nice selection of socks for you to look at next. And for your underwear?"

The Doctor simply looked at him. "Sorry?"

"Boxers? Briefs? We have both."

The Doctor gaped like a fish. Rose started giggling uncontrollably, unable to stop even when both men turned to look at her. That broke the spell. An embarrassed Doctor stammered and stalled, and Rose took the opportunity to give them some privacy.

"I'll just...go over there," she said, giggling harder as the Doctor's face turned red.

She didn't know what the Doctor's choice was, and couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Rose headed back to the register when she saw the Doctor standing there, the pile of chosen clothing in front of him.

"Luckily maxicoats are very popular right now," the salesclerk was saying. "Yours is particularly nice."

"It was a gift from Janis Joplin," the Doctor said, glancing at Rose as she drew near. The salesman gave him an odd look and clearly didn't believe him, but the Doctor didn't notice. Why would he pay attention to a salesclerk when Rose Tyler was nearby?

"Hello," he said, his earlier embarrassment already forgotten.

She smiled. "Hi. You ready?"

"Yes."

She paid for his new clothes while the Doctor headed to another part of the store. He'd declined to change into anything new, keeping his suit and coat on. Rose hoped he would be willing to part with them soon. Who would have though that a single male could be so much work? A few pairs of trousers and a handful of shirts had taken over an hour.

She suspected not having laundry on demand was going to be quite a shock to him. She wondered if she would have to teach him how to run a washing machine.

_"These boots are made for walking," _the small radio in Rose's bedroom sang the next morning. Rose hummed along as she got ready for work. Her hair still wrapped in a towel, she did her makeup in the bathroom. Heavy black mascara and eyeliner, not too much different from her normal look. Some pale pink lipstick. She'd have to reapply it after breakfast but she liked the way it looked.

She'd bought a second dress yesterday, on the way home. They'd been walking down the street, the Doctor laden with carrier bags, when she'd spotted it in the window. The Doctor had not been happy at all with her stopping, complaining of hunger, so she'd gone back to the flat, eaten a takeaway dinner of fish and chips, and then nipped out when the Doctor's attention was grabbed by the television.

The dress was pink. It had a low, square neck, short sleeves, and a hemline that was dangerously high. She'd had just enough money left over to buy white shoes with a modest heel. Rose felt like she was playing dress-up, but it was fun.

She quickly dried her hair with the hairdryer she'd found in her bedroom closet. Not wanting to bother with complicated sixties hairstyles today, she brushed it smooth and swept it back in a ponytail. Her silver hoop earrings looked nice enough with the dress, although she fancied some large white earrings would make her fit right in.

The lock and key on her TARDIS chain still hung around her neck. She pulled them out so that they hung outside her neckline. Satisfied, she went out to he kitchen, where she could hear the Doctor making tea.

"Ow!" She heard the exclamation and grinned. The teakettle was not a cooperative one. It worked just fine for her, but not for him.

"Good morning," Rose said cheerfully.

The Doctor looked up. The teakettle was whistling, and he had his finger stuck in his mouth.

"Morning," he mumbled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did. You?" Rose sat down and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate in front of him.

"I don't sleep, remember? Did some reading, watched the telly, observed the neighbors."

"Were you spying on our neighbors?"

"Well. Not _spying_. But there's a bloke upstairs who looks shifty. Kept looking over his shoulder as he went up the stairs last night." The Doctor poured Rose a mug of tea.

"He probably sensed you were watching him," she pointed out. "How come you're not wearing your new clothes?" she continued, noting that he was in his suit and tie.

"I will," he said.

"When? We talked about this, Doctor, remember?"

"I remember." He scowled and poured some tea for himself. "I just hate to have to change, that's all. I'm happy with this suit."

"Well, keep it up and soon it'll be able to walk on its own."

He rolled his eyes. "All right, then." He stood up and made a production out of unbuttoning his suit jacket. Just why that gesture should make Rose's mouth go dry she had no idea. She'd watched him undo the buttons before, but never because he was going to take the jacket off. He'd never done that in front of her before.

The Doctor eased out of the jacket, laid it across the back of his chair, and flung his arms out. "There! See?"

He stood there in just his blue shirt and tie. Rose did see, and she nodded, amazingly, rather inappropriately turned on by the sight of him in just his shirt.

"Oh, almost forgot!" The Doctor grinned and undid his tie, laying it carelessly on the table. "There we are!" He rolled up his sleeves, sat back down, and started spreading orange marmalade on his toast. "You were right, Rose. Feel more like a student already!"

Rose shifted in her chair. The sight of his bare arms, combined with the open neck of his shirt, was making her very aware of him. Things were changing a little too fast between them.

"Rose? You all right?" The Doctor watched her in concern as he chewed his toast.

Rose watched him take a bite of toast, watched his tongue lick some marmalade from his lips.

"I, er, better go to work," she said breathlessly, leaving her toast and tea untouched. "I'll see you at lunch!"

She was gone and out the door before he could respond. Shrugging, the Doctor settled back to finish his tea.


	10. Chapter 10

Rose made quick work of the walk to her new job. The shop wasn't far from their new flat, and the morning was pleasantly warm and sunny. For a moment, just a moment, Rose was able to imagine that she was home, in her proper time, going to work. She pretended that life was normal again, and that her mum was still at their flat, dressed in her pink chenille bathrobe and with her hair in curlers, chatting on the phone. But then a car drove by, an old Ford that was old even for 1969, and she remembered that she wasn't where she belonged at the moment.

But it wasn't the first time for that, not by a long shot. The Doctor would sort things out and have them back home in no time. Rose resolved to enjoy herself in the meantime, and trust in the Doctor.

She reached the shop right at 8:30, and Iris was there immediately to unlock the door and let her in.

"Good morning!" Iris said cheerfully. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks." Rose followed her new boss to the back room, where she was shown where to put her bag and coat.

"It's just the two of us today," Iris explained as she handed Rose a discreet golden pin. "I have a couple of girls help out in the evenings after school. They come in on Saturday if things get really busy."

Rose was fiddling with the pin. It was in the shape of a sun, about two inches across.

"Here." Iris opened the back and showed her how to fasten it to her top. "It's our store logo."

Rose fastened the pin gingerly, hoping it wouldn't make holes in her dress. She was surprised to see that it left no mark.

"Usually nametags ruin your top," she commented.

"It's something new that the owner created. It won't put holes in your clothes."

"It's nice." Rose straightened the pin.

"Come on," Iris said. "Let's show you how to work the till."

The morning passed quickly. It was amazing how easily it all came back to Rose. Dealing with customers, putting away new inventory, working the till. It helped that things in 1969 were a lot simpler, she thought wryly. No computers, just an old metal cash register. They accepted cash and checks. A few choice customers had store accounts, and Iris took care of those people herself.

Even the phone was nice and easy, Rose thought with a smile as it rang. Heavy and black, with a rotary dial. No voicemail system, no answerphone, no annoying phonetrees that prompted you to press your options.

"Good morning," she said into the receiver. "Helio Fashions, Rose speaking."

"Who?" a man's voice demanded.

"This is Rose. Can I help you?"

"I don't know any Rose. Put Iris on the phone."

Rose held the phone out to Iris, who happened to be standing beside her. "It's for you."

Iris was on the phone for a while, nodding and scribbling things down on a pad of paper. Rose had helped three customers and straightened out the fitting room by the time Iris got off the phone.

"Sorry about that," she said to Rose when the shop was empty. "That was Mr. Troy. He owns the shop."

"Oh." Rose felt a bit foolish. "I didn't know."

"He didn't say who he was, did he? That's typical. He's a bit gruff sometimes, but don't worry about him. He had some information to give me. You'll meet him soon enough. Now." Iris glanced at her watch. "It's almost noon. Are you ready for your lunch break?"

"Sure. No problem."

"Actually..." Iris paused and looked around. The shop was empty, and she gave Rose a conspiratorial smile. "Let's lock up and go have lunch together."

"Is that okay?" Rose was surprised into asking. Normally you wouldn't just close up in the middle of the day.

"It is today," Iris decided. "I feel like a sandwich. How about you?"

Rose didn't have to think about it. "I'd love some chips!"

Lunch was fast but pleasant. Iris was a few years older than Rose but friendly and outgoing. Rose reckoned that as long as Iris wasn't one of those girls who was friendly one day and catty the next, she'd be fine.

The afternoon passed quickly. She had to learn how to tag new inventory and hang it up, how to run the register and write up a bank slip for the evening's deposit, and learn what items the store carried so that when she was asked a question she didn't look foolish.

In the middle of all of this, though, she still found time to be distracted.

"What are you watching for?" Iris asked as she walked up to the front counter.

Rose had been checking off a shipping manifest, marking items that had arrived with their packing slip. She glanced up at Iris.

"What?"

Iris smiled and nodded to the door. "What are you looking for? Every time I look up, you're looking out the window."

Rose blushed and hurriedly turned back to her packing slip. "It's nothing," she murmured. "Just daydreaming."

Five o'clock came at last. Iris locked the doors, quickly counted up the till, and sent Rose home.

"Don't you want me to help clean up?" Rose asked in surprise.

Iris shook her head. "I can take care of it. You go on home."

Rose gathered her bag and was out the door in a flash. Without even needing to think about it, she headed back to the flat. The entryway was empty, she noted, and there was no landlady peering out from an open door. Skipping up the stairs, she unlocked the door to their flat, trying not to think about the last time she unlocked the TARDIS with her key.

"Doctor?" she called. "I'm home!"

There was no answer. Walking inside, she saw that the flat was empty. There were some crumpled up sheets of paper on the coffee table, but the kitchen had been neatly, if somewhat haphazardly, picked up.

"Doctor?"

Rose stood in the kitchen for a moment. She didn't think he'd be in the bedroom, but she checked it just the same. The room looked just as it had when she'd left it that morning. She slowly opened the curtains to let some light in and walked back to the living room. No Doctor. Feeling a bit silly, she placed a hand on the television set. It wasn't warm, so he'd been gone a while.

Rose was surprised by how disappointed she felt. "Right," she said out loud. "No sense in staying here alone. Especially when there's not a lot of food."

Locking the door behind her, she headed back out to find the nearest fast food place.

* * *

The Doctor had barely finished his midmorning tea when there was a knock on the door. He had no need to be fearful or suspicious, but he made sure the sonic screwdriver was in his pocket all the same.

He opened the door, took in a tall man with dark hair, and said hello.

"Morning! I'm Jeff. Live down the hall." The man indicated the direction with a nod of his head. "Saw you move in the other night. You and that pretty blonde."

"That's Rose," the Doctor said, more sharply than was perhaps necessary. This was the shifty neighbor, the one who'd been watching over his shoulder as he'd gone up the stairs.

"Rose," Jeff repeated thoughtfully. "She not your sister or anything, is she?" he asked hopefully.

"No," the Doctor said, even more sharply than before. "She's not my sister." He did not elaborate, partly because it was not this bloke's business, and partly because his brain veered away from any thoughts about what Rose might be to him. Things were difficult enough at the moment without making himself crazy over that.

"I get it. All right!" Jeff smiled and leaned in close. "I won't say a word to the landlady, then, mate. Just between us, eh?"

The Doctor truly did not know how to respond to this. He would not tolerate anyone making rude aspersions about Rose, but this man hadn't exactly done so. Jeff started talking again while the Doctor was wrestling with this.

"Anyway, just wanted to make sure you were settled in okay."

The Doctor forced himself to nod in a genial, friendly manner. "We are, thanks."

"Rose at work than?" Jeff continued, peering around the Doctor and into the flat.

"She is, yes." The Doctor wondered at what point he could close the door and be left alone again. Sally Sparrow's papers were beckoning him.

"How about you? You out of work right now? That's rough."

"I'm not out of work," the Doctor said testily. "I'm a...student."

"A student. You look a bit old to be a student."

"Graduate student," the Doctor said repressively.

"Yeah? Which uni?" Jeff continued, obviously determined to wring all the information he could from this encounter.

The Doctor sighed to himself and covertly pointed his sonic screwdriver into the room behind him. The telephone rang, and he smiled brightly at his new neighbor.

"Must get that. Nice to meet you. See you again soon. Bye!"

He picked up the telephone receiver and set it back in the cradle again. Normally he loved talking with humans, but he was a bit - a small bit, hardly noticeable, really - on edge. He hadn't gotten the address for Rose's shop, for one thing, and wasn't sure where she was working. She had mentioned the name and he could of course go looking for it, but she might think that he was checking up on her, and she was more than capable of looking after herself.

And for another thing, well, he was trapped without his TARDIS. Not only trapped, but the TARDIS could be used to potentially cause a great deal of devastation if he didn't get it out of the hands of the Weeping Angels. A bit of a dilemma, that.

And why couldn't Rose have said he was a professor? A student was so...demeaning. There were any number of things he could have pretended to be. An eccentric millionaire, for example. Or an MP. Or an astronaut.

A sudden spate of yelling from the hallway outside diverted his thoughts. The yelling was followed by a deafening crash. Grabbing his coat, the Doctor bolted out of the flat, looking wildly in all directions.

* * *

Rose walked back down the stairs, swinging her bag and trying not to feel so let down that the Doctor was gone. He might have made an important discovery about getting them home. Or maybe they were out of milk and he'd made an emergency run to the shop.

Her thoughts stopped as the object of them bounded up the stairs towards her. The Doctor looked up at her, smiling in delight.

"Rose! You're home!" He caught her up in a big hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground.

Rose giggled and clung to him, the stress of the day disappearing in an instant.

"I'm home! Miss me?"

He set her back on her feet and smiled down at her. "Of course. How was your day?"

"All right. Bit of a learning curve and all, but I did okay. Iris says I can start making commission after next week."

"Brilliant!" he pronounced, beaming proudly at her. "Anything exciting happen?"

"Well." Rose thought for a moment. "We did have one woman come in, wanting to try on a dress in the window. It was about five sizes too small, but she was determined to have it."

"How did it look?" he asked curiously.

She rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated shudder. "Let's just hope her husband can convince her to bring it back!"

"What she needs," the Doctor said thoughtfully, taking her hand and starting down the stairs, "is some sort of transdimensional fashion accessory. Makes even the smallest garments conform to your proper, actual size."

"Invent that, you'd make a fortune, you would."

"Don't tempt me!"

"Where are we going?" she asked. "Weren't you on your way home?"

"Nah. Well. I was heading back to wait for you, but since you're here I don't need to wait!"

She smiled. "Wait for what?"

He was one step ahead of her on the way down, making them almost equal in height. He glanced back at her with a grin.

"Dinner. There's someone I want you to meet."


	11. Chapter 11

The Doctor had reacted quite without thinking. The yells coming from outside the flat had instantly diverted his thoughts from Sally Sparrow and the rather confusing mess of papers she had given him. Grabbing his coat, he opened the door, slammed it shut behind him, and started running down the hallway towards the source of the noise.

He bumped into Jeff as he ran, struggling to get his arms into his coat sleeves.

"Did you hear that?" Jeff demanded as they both continued to jog down the hall. "I've never heard anyone make a noise like that!"

As quickly as it had started, the noise stopped, switched off like a radio. They both came to a slow stop.

"What happened?" Jeff asked in confusion.

"It's stopped," the Doctor pointed out. Really, the man was good looking enough and dense enough to qualify as another of Rose's - no, no, no, he told himself firmly. He was not going to go there.

"Yeah it stopped," Jeff said, bringing the Doctor out of his mental wanderings concerning Rose and the young men she seemed to attract without any effort at all, not that he was jealous because he _wasn't_, not at all, "but what _was_ it? I could swear it was coming from downstairs."

"Well, then." The Doctor adjusted his coat. "We'd better go see."

There was nothing in the hallway or on the stairs. No signs of struggle or accident. No one was loitering about in the lobby, either. Both men paused and looked all around, trying to find a clue as what had happened. A very tall woman in a tie-dyed shirt and skin-tight pants walked down the hall to the row of mailboxes that lined the wall by the building's entrance.

"Hello, Sandra," Jeff greeted her. "How are you?" He tried in vain to make eye contact with her.

She glanced in the general direction of his voice without actually looking at him. "Fine," she answered.

"You just getting in?"

She heaved a deep sigh as she reached the mailboxes. "Yes."

"Did you hear anything just now?" he persisted. "Like...screaming?"

She collected her mail, locked her box up again, and fixed him with a look of deep annoyance. "Screaming?"

"Yeah. Screaming."

"From where?" she asked after a long moment of silence.

"From..." Jeff was stumped. He looked at the Doctor, who was equally stumped.

"Er, from around here. Or the general direction of here," the Doctor finally said with a vague hand gesture.

Sandra looked like she couldn't believe she was actually speaking to them. "No. I didn't hear anything." She took her mail and continued on to the front door, walking out without a backwards glance and letting the door slam behind her.

"See you later!" Jeff called.

"Not too friendly, is she?" the Doctor observed. "Amazing how she manages to convey so much disdain with so few words."

"She's friendly enough," Jeff said darkly. "With the right sort of person."

"Ah." The Doctor could just imagine who that right sort of person would be. Judging by the girl's reaction, Jeff was not the right sort of person. His attention caught again by the mailboxes, he walked over to them and stared fixedly at each one, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers.

"What are you looking at?" Jeff came up beside him and scanned the wall.

"This unit isn't a very big one, is it? Not like a council estate, certainly. There are only ten units here," the Doctor observed, nodding at the two rows of black boxes, five in each row. "Single people, couples, families with children. Could be as few as fifteen altogether. If just five flats have a family of four living in it, we're up to around twenty-five, thirty people. Possibly more."

Jeff looked confused, which quite possibly was his natural expression. "What has that got to do with the yelling?"

"We could knock on the door of each flat and ask if the occupants are all right." The Doctor spoke absently, eyes still on the mailboxes, reading the names on each one. He noted that the one assigned to his own flat had no name on it. No one knew that he and Rose were there.

"What's the use of that? It could have been someone coming in from off the street and then right back out again."

This bit of reasonable thinking earned Jeff an approving glance. Perhaps he wasn't as dim as the Doctor initially thought. Before he could pursue that line of logic, the door to the flat by the entrance creaked open. They both turned around to spot a head with curly grey hair peering out at them through the chain.

"Something wrong?" the unit manager asked.

"No, Mrs. MacMurray," Jeff said quickly. "Not at all. How are you?"

"Oh, fine. Just fine."

"Lovely." Jeff grabbed the Doctor's arm and pushed him to the door. "We were just heading out. See you later!"

"What was that for?" the Doctor demanded once they were outside on the street.

"I don't want to bother her," Jeff explained. "If something was going on, she would have heard and would have gotten worried."

"Worried? She manages the entire building! Surely she's seen worse than some anonymous yelling."

"Yeah, but she's got a bad heart. I hate to bother her."

"What happens when something goes wrong?"

"Oh, she deals with it, of course. Bad stuff happens here all the time, just like any other place. Heart attacks, angry husband hits his wife, kids fall down the stairs."

The Doctor could not argue with this logic, not when there was anything wrong that he could see. "Fair enough."

"I better get going back to work," Jeff said. "I just stopped back home to pick up some paperwork." He held up a briefcase that the Doctor hadn't noticed before. Jeff hesitated as he turned. "What's your name, anyway?"

"My name? Smith. John Smith." The alias came to his lips easily, which was no surprise if you considered just how often he had used it.

"Nice to meet you. I'm meeting some mates down at the pub on the corner after work. You're welcome to come by, especially if the missus is gone."

Meeting Jeff and his mates at the neighborhood pub was one of the last things the Doctor felt like doing, but he nodded anyway.

"Sounds great! I'll see what we get up to later."

"See you." And Jeff was gone, heading off down the street. Despite the casual air, Jeff was wearing a proper City suit. He idly wondered what the man did for a living.

It was no use. Despite his fascination with the envelope - where had Sally Sparrow bumped into him in his future? - all he could think about was the passing of time and where Rose was. He hadn't thought to ask the name of her shop, and although he wanted to go find her, he didn't want her to think that he was checking up on her. She was of course capable of handling things on her own. This was London in 1969, not an alien planet.

Right. Time to get back to work. Off we go.

The Doctor returned to the flat, struck by how...shabby it seemed in the light of day. He hung his coat up and walked around the room, hands in pockets. The view from the sitting room wasn't bad. They had a television. Reminded of this, he switched it on, content to let the tinny sounds keep him company. The furniture wasn't that bad, he supposed, but it had nothing on the styles and fabrics of the future. The couch had been in the flat for sometime, judging by the springs he could see just beneath the seat.

That envelope beckoned. He sat, put on his glasses, and got to work, sorting through the random notebook pages and old photographs. Try as he might, he couldn't concentrate on any one item long enough to work out how it was connected to himself.

He stopped to have lunch, running out to find himself a sandwich at a small take-away place down the street. After that he simply wandered, amused to see so many familiar places. He'd been here before 1969, and would be here after 1969. He thought back to his own personal timeline. Was he there in London right now, working for UNIT? He resolved to avoid the more memorable spots, just in case. It never did to meddle in one's own personal timeline. Also, for some reason, his previous regenerations never appreciated his later regenerations.

The Doctor didn't go back to the flat. Although he was unwilling to admit it to himself, he was lonely without Rose and felt anxious. She was off working because they needed money to live while they were here. They were here because of the Weeping Angels, and shouldn't he have been more careful in that house? He had promised Jackie he'd take care of Rose, and just look where they were. It just didn't feel right without Rose beside him, and he didn't like that at all.

"'Lo, mate," someone greeted him, and he looked up to see his old buddy Jeff standing there, this time dressed in jeans and a casual sweater. "I'm heading to the pub. Coming?"

The Doctor spoke without thinking.

"I'd love to," he said. "I just...I need to go meet Rose first."

Jeff grinned. "Like that, eh? I'll see you down there."

"See you," the Doctor said. He decided to check the flat first. If Rose wasn't there, he would give in and go find her shop. He'd made it through an entire day without her. He was willing to admit that it had been very unpleasant.

The pub was dark inside, and Rose had to blink a few times to see through the haze of cigarette smoke. The telly was on over the bar, showing a rugby match or football or something equally compelling. She didn't care enough to look closely and figure out which it was. A waitress bustled by in a tight top and very short skirt, bearing a tray of pints. Rose stepped aside to let her pass, then followed the Doctor to the back.

"So who am I meeting?" she asked once more, but if he heard her he didn't answer. Coming to a stop at a table, he waved an arm for Rose to sit down. She sat, eyes on the dark haired man across from her.

He grinned at her as the Doctor settled in beside her, taking off his coat and carefully hanging it over the back of his chair so it didn't drag on the floor.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully, swigging back a truly amazing mouthful of ale. "Name's Jeff. Live upstairs from you."

Rose nodded, wondering where the Doctor had bumped into him. "Hello. I'm Rose."

"Nice to meet you! What'll you have?"

She was still slightly off balance, and looked around for a menu. "I, I don't know." Did pubs in this time serve the same type of food as in her own time?

"We're both having the fish and chips," the Doctor told him. "I'll go place that order." He smiled cheerfully at Rose and was away and at the bar before she could say anything to stop him. She looked back at Jeff and found him staring at her from over his mug.

"So how do you like London so far?"

"It's...nice," Rose said carefully. How much had the Doctor told this man? Did she need to start creating a backstory for them? Why had he just walked away like that?

"Nice?" Jeff shook his head. "I'd never call it nice. Now, crazy, that'd be a good one."

"Crazy," Rose echoed. "Really?" The London she knew was busy and loud and carefree and lots of things, but she had never thought of it as crazy before.

"Yeah. Crazy's a good word. Came down from the North as a kid, myself. Never got over the shock. Couldn't bear to go back."

Rose smiled, a real smile, not the polite one she had first used with him. "I used to have a friend from the North."

"Yeah? What part?"

"Oh, not the north of England. The north of..." Her voice trailed off. "So. Do you like it here, then?"

"Love it. Never leaving. I've got a great job, nice enough flat, lots of girls to call."

Rose nodded understandingly. "Single bloke, lots of prospects."

"Exactly. Man's got to play the field while he's young, you know?"

"So how did you meet-"

"Here we go! Fish and chips, as ordered!" The Doctor set down two baskets and slipped back in beside Rose.

"Thanks." Rose bit into a chip, realized how hungry she was, and took another one. "Mmm, these are delicious!"

"Nothing like good old English pub food," the Doctor agreed. "Best in the universe!"

Jeff gave him an odd look. "Right. Pub food. Best in the Milky Way."

"Well, I didn't specify the galaxy," the Doctor began, but Rose interrupted him.

"Did we get drinks, too?"

From his pocket he pulled out two bottles of Coca Cola and handed one to Rose. She looked, perplexed, at the bottlecap and tried to twist it off. It pinched her fingers. From another pocket the Doctor produced a small bottle opener, flipped the cap off, and presented it to her.

"There you are."

"Thank you." She beamed at him and took a long sip.

The Doctor was momentarily distracted by the way her mouth curved around the bottle. He could almost see her tongue working as she swallowed the cola, and he shook himself back to his senses and changed the subject before he did something really, really stupid.

"As I was about to tell Jeff before I decided to come find you," the Doctor said to Rose, taking a chip off her plate without even asking, "we're in town for a bit after some trouble with our transportation."

Rose nodded, trying to look like she had known that al along. Unbidden, a memory of the Doctor in the midst of World War II came to mind. Short dark hair and blue eyes, wearing a black leather jacket and being addressed as "Dr. Spock." Absurdly, for a split second she missed him, even as he was sitting beside her.

"Yeah, our transportation," she echoed. "Just a bit of trouble. Thought we'd stay for a while and...and enjoy the sights." She glanced around the dark pub, wishing this was a place worth seeing and not the same sort of pub she had been in with Mickey as he watched a match with his mates and she played with her mobile phone.

"Well, don't know how many sights are here to enjoy." Jeff paused to take a bite of his cheeseburger. "Unless you're into Buckingham Palace or 10 Downing Street."

"Oh, we've done all that," the Doctor said casually. "Or will do, depending on your point of view. But for the moment we're happy to be here."

"Stop," Rose whispered to him. Too much talk of time would make people nervous and suspicious.

"So, John tells me that you're working while he's at university?" Jeff asked Rose.

She stared at him until her brain told her who the "John" must be referring to. "Uh, yes." She glanced at the Doctor, who looked at her innocently but with a suspicious gleam of laughter in his eyes. "I've got a job at a shop near here. You know professional students," she couldn't resist adding. "Never want to work if they can hang around in the classroom all day!"

The Doctor was startled into a frown and Jeff laughed.

"I'm a _post-graduate_ student," the Doctor corrected Rose. "Busy and professional and all that. Making great strides in research."

"Huge, huge strides," Rose agreed. "Absolutely amazing, the stuff he comes up with."

The Doctor gazed at her incredulously, with a slight smile curving his mouth. He was enjoying this, even as she was teasing him.

"You wouldn't believe the stuff I can come up with," he agreed in an undertone, and Rose felt herself flush. She hadn't felt this giddy since...well, before her mum went through to the other universe, for sure.

"Wouldn't I?" she murmured.

"Blimey." Jeff shook his head and reached for his drink. His voice broke the spell surrounding them and they moved back away from each other. The Doctor reached for a chip. Rose nervously smoothed back her hair. Each tried to act like nothing had happened. "What's it like, anyway, being married? Is it worth the trouble or not?"

The chip fell out of the Doctor's open mouth. "Sorry. What?"

Rose turned to the Doctor and coldly, quite deliberately, changed the subject.

"Where did you meet, anyway? You never did say. Weren't you studying all day?"

His eyes widened. "Studying? Is that what you would call trying to piece together-"

"It was the weirdest thing!" Jeff interrupted, forgetting his cheeseburger and leaning towards her. "There I was, in the hallway right outside your flat, when I heard someone yelling."

Rose glanced at the Doctor, satisfied that the mention of marriage had been forgotten. Plenty of time to avoid that one later on. "Outside our flat?"

"Yeah, I knocked on the door to say hello."

"Someone was yelling," the Doctor confirmed. "Jeff and I both ran out but we didn't see anything."

"No one would even answer their doors," Jeff added. "All that bloody racket, and no one heard anything."

"Well, they might not have been home," the Doctor allowed.

"Middle of the day, most people are out," Jeff conceded. "But it was still right strange."

"That is strange," Rose agreed, and when they got to debating what it could possibly have been, she fell into it with as much enthusiasm as they did.

Long after their meals were finished, they stayed in the booth. Rose went to the loo once, and the Doctor would hop up now and then to examine something or other that caught his fancy, either inside the pub or something that he saw in the street. People came and went, saying hello to Jeff and being introduced.

Rose was actually enjoying herself quite a lot, and the Doctor appeared very relaxed. Sometimes he would stretch an arm along the seat behind her back, and she had to fight the temptation to snuggle against him.

Jeff sat up straight when a pretty woman with blonde hair entered the pub. She glanced all around, saw Jeff, and immediately turned away. He frowned, got up and walked over to her. They appeared to be having a difference of opinion.

"Ouch," the Doctor said mildly when Jeff got slapped in the face. "I know what that's like."

"Lover's tiff?" Rose guessed.

"Maybe." The Doctor lost interest in Jeff and his female friend, preferring to look at Rose instead.

"We should think about getting back, shouldn't we?" She leaned over to grab a chip from the Doctor's plate. Her hair had come loose and brushed the side of his face as she moved.

He blinked and cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes. We should get back home." He spoke without thinking, but it touched a nerve in Rose.

"I can't think of it as home, you know?" Rose spoke quietly, staring down at the tabletop. "My mum's flat was home. The TARDIS was home. This...it's more like we're on holiday."

"That's the spirit," the Doctor said, forcing himself to sound cheerful. "We are on a time traveling holiday, and soon we'll be back where we belong."

She smiled wryly. "Relaxed and refreshed?"

"Why not? I haven't relaxed like this since..." He paused. "Since when?"

"Not since we found that weather predictor for my mum." Her smile faded. That day had been wonderful and fun and full of laughter, and the trip to see her mother had started a long series of disasters.

"Don't," he said when he saw her trying not to cry. "Your mother is happy and safe. She knows where you are."

Rose sniffed. "I know. I'm glad she found my dad and they're having a baby. I just miss her. I'll never see the baby, I'll never know if I have a brother or sister."

"If there's a way to go back, we will find it," he promised her. "Okay? I promise it, Rose. I swear it."

"First we have to get out of 1969," she reminded him.

"First that. Then we'll break across parallel dimensions."

Rose nodded. "Deal. Anyway, I'd rather be here. I'd rather be here with you than be stuck on the other side of that wall." She couldn't stop the tears this time, and he hugged her with one arm.

"Stuck with me, that's what you are. Come on."

Rose found her shoes under the table and slipped them back on. They'd started to hurt her feet, and she made a mental note to wear something more comfortable to work from now on. The Doctor slid out of the booth and waited for her. Rose stumbled a little when she stood up and he caught her easily against him.

"Steady now! All right!"

"Yup. Right as rain." She grinned up at him, and he was amazed that her scent was still as fresh as when she first put it on that morning.

"Doctor? You all right?"

He realized that he was holding her against him. She looked up at him with a question in her eyes.

"'Course I'm all right! When aren't I? Come on!" He offered her his arm and headed out of the pub, waving a goodbye to Jeff on the way.

Back at the flat Rose meant to go change into pajamas and get ready for bed, but she was distracted by the papers all over the floor, couch and tables. By the light of the streetlamps outside, it looked like a thick white coating over everything. Rose switched on a lamp and looked around.

"What's all this?"

"Sally Sparrow, whoever she may be, amassed the oddest collection of memorabilia for me." The Doctor cleared the couch off by sweeping the papers to the floor and sitting down.

Rose stifled a laugh but joined him. The couch, old and sagging as it was, felt heavenly.

"Oh, that's nice," she sighed leaning back against the cushions. The springs jabbed into her legs but she ignored them for the moment.

"Are you really that tired?" he asked in some surprise. Normally Rose could go all day and all night.

"Not tired, exactly," she allowed. "Just been a long day. I haven't had to do a proper job like that in a long time. Not since you blew my last job up," she couldn't help adding.

"It's my fault that you're working now." The Doctor looked at her. "I'm sorry, Rose."

The last time he had looked so devastated was when he had realized he'd trapped her on a planet orbiting a black hole. It had broken her heart to see him without the TARDIS then, and it broke her heart now, too.

"No, it's not your fault!" she hastened to tell him. "You didn't ask those, those creepy space traveling angels to send us back in time! I'm gonna work to support us until you figure it all out."

He nodded. Of course he would figure it all out! He was the Doctor.

Rose leaned over and idly picked up the first piece of paper she touched. As she looked it over the Doctor used the sonic screwdriver to turn the television on. Rose looked up when she heard the sound.

He grinned. "I just invented the remote control!"

She giggled before going back to the paper. "This doesn't make any sense. _Love, Actually_. _Manon of the Spring_. _A Man and a Woman_. _The_ _Maltese Falcon_." She set the paper down and peered at the Doctor. "What is this?"

He glanced at the paper she was holding out. "Oh! Apparently this is a list of movies that we are to insert an Easter egg onto once they are released in DVD format."

"Easter eggs," she repeated.

"Yes. A hidden message, passage or scene inside a dvd, computer game, whatever." The Doctor shrugged. "This a list of movies that our good friend Sally Sparrow owns. And apparently I will one day insert an Easter egg full of instructions and dialogue onto each one for her to find."

Rose was still puzzled. "How are you going to do that?"

"Oh, I imagine it's all laid out somewhere." He gestured to the papers.

"But it's only 1969. DVDs won't be out until...when?"

He thought for a moment. "Around 1995 or so."

"1995? But that's almost thirty years from now!" she exclaimed.

"Now, Rose, don't worry. We just need to be calm and rational, and everything will work itself right out."

She took a deep breath and settled herself more comfortably on the couch. "If you say so, Doctor."

"I do," he said firmly, and they both pretended to believe that everything was going to be all right.


	12. Chapter 12

Helio was...an acceptable place to work, Rose decided. It wasn't as big as Henrik's, which meant less work for her. Unlike Henrik's large employee roster, though, it was just Iris and herself during the week. Most of the time the shop was steadily busy but not overwhelming. She got the impression that things picked up over the weekend, but that was when she had her days off.

So it wasn't like she was having the time of her life, but she felt good knowing that she was contributing to solving the problem. The Doctor needed a place to stay to figure out how to get them back to the TARDIS, and she was working to pay for that place and for food to keep them alive.

Not to mention, there was no better place to be than a clothing store if you wanted to know all about the time period you were stuck in. While Rose lived in jeans, and was used to seeing people wear them to all kinds of functions, from weddings to funerals, here in the 1960's jeans were still frowned upon. They belonged to the hippies who walked through London, smiling and signing and insisting that John Lennon could solve nearly any problem the world had.

And while she didn't mind wearing dresses and trousers, sometimes she really would kill for a pair of jeans. They were so comfortable!

"They just look so sloppy," Iris commented on Friday morning, staring out of the shop's picture window at a group of young men who were walking by. They were wearing casual shirts and jeans, and were clearly students who were up to no good.

"Wait'll you see them for sale with holes all over," Rose said before she could stop herself.

Iris glanced over, a confused look on her face. Rose busied herself with straightening up a rack of sunglasses. Iris decided that she must have misheard whatever it was Rose had said, and continued.

"I remember watching my mother dress to come shopping in London on the weekend. A perfect little suit and heels and hat."

"Like Jackie O?"

Iris glanced at Rose again, who cursed, not for the first time, the way she spoke without thinking.

"Er, Jackie Kennedy?"

"Yes! Exactly." Iris smiled. "And we girls had to wear school uniforms wherever we went. Our skirts had better touch the floor when we knelt, too, or we'd be in trouble."

"Yeah," Rose murmured. "Just like that where I grew up." She sighed. At her school minis and tank tops had been the rage, and no one would ever had made a girl kneel down to check the length of her skirt. The Doctor was enjoying this time period, but she was finding it a little constrictive.

"I'll get that," Iris said as the phone started to ring.

Rose continued to straighten up the racks. The shop was a nice place to be in the morning. Sunlight coming in through the windows lit up the walls, which were painted a pale yellow. Mirrors hung at various spots, letting women get a glimpse of themselves. Some were in the shape of suns and moons, which Rose thought was rather pretty. Her favorite mirror was a large silver circle, with a sunburst pattern of slender spokes exploding from it at different lengths all the way around. At the end of each length was a tiny round mirror.

The dressing rooms were in a long row at the back, individual cubbies with a full-length mirror on the door. Clustered in front of the dressing rooms were two couches and several chairs, all upholstered in luxurious yellow and blue fabric. It was a favorite spot for husbands and boyfriends to lounge on.

Iris was still on the phone fifteen minutes later when the delivery bell rang. Rose checked to make sure there was no one shopping in the store and motioned to Iris that she was going to the back room. Iris waved in acknowledgement, looking a little flustered. Heading through the door that led to the offices and kitchen, Rose continued on to the building's rear entrance, where deliveries were accepted.

"Go a new shipment today," Henry said, handing her a clipboard.

"Thanks." Rose scrawled her name and waited for him to wheel in a dolly full of boxes. Henry stopped by twice a day with merchandise deliveries from various warehouses, and Rose knew all about him - how he and his wife had two boys and longed for a girl, how he liked his job because he got to see all parts of London, and how his mother used to work for the Queen as a parlormaid.

"I'll leave them on the sales floor," Henry told her. "They're a bit heavy today. We don't want you two girls hurting yourselves."

Rose smiled and nodded, biting her tongue not to comment on the sexist remark. Women's lib hadn't quite reached everyone yet. Sometimes it was handy, though. She could open doors for herself all day long, but there was nothing like a big man for hauling heavy boxes around for you.

Iris was off the phone and helping a customer when Henry finished bringing in boxes and left. Rose started in on the top box, opening it to see a pile of dark blue fabric. She lifted it out to find a pair of slim fitting, dark blue trousers splashed all over with large red and yellow flowers. Rose was surprised at how much she liked them. In her mind the fashions of this time period were all ugly and full of plaids, but these were kind of cute. Not what she would ever be caught wearing back home, but for this place and time they were perfect.

"That was Mr. Troy on the phone," Iris said from behind her. Rose put the trousers down and turned around.

"Is everything okay?"

"He's got some news for us, he said. He'll be here in a little while."

Rose hadn't met her employer yet, and she nodded. "Hope it's not because I've done something wrong," she joked.

"Never," Iris assured her. "Aren't those cute!" She picked up the flowered trousers. "These would look adorable on you! We're not busy. Go try them on!"

"But I don't need them," Rose pointed out.

"Who needs clothes? We buy them because we want to." Iris rifled through a nearby rack of blouses. "Here!" She thrust a red t-shirt into Rose's arms along with the trousers. "Go on!"

Laughing, Rose went, taking off her blue dress and putting on the outfit before going out to show Iris.

"See?" Iris smiled as Rose modeled the outfit for her. "You have got the perfect figure for that."

Rose watched the bellbottoms swing around her feet. "It is cute," she agreed. "But I don't quite have the funds right now," she added, checking the price tag. Her current paypacket had been handed to her that morning, and it was already divided up into food and rent money, and she didn't dare do anything until they were more sure of what their situation was. It was one thing to spend money recklessly if they would be leaving later that day, but it looked like they were going to be in 1969 for a while, and they would need to be careful. The Doctor did not show as much concern as she did, feeling that they could be free with the sonic screwdriver and the psychic paper. Once in a while those tools were okay, Rose thought, but if they were going to be stuck here long-term they needed something more practical and legal.

"You know Mr. Troy wants us to wear what we sell," Iris admonished her. "He won't mind if you take them home and pay next week. And our employee discount will go a long way."

It was too tempting. "I'll wrap them up," Rose decided. Someone entered the shop just then, and she ducked back into the dressing room to change her clothes.

A steady stream of people came and went that morning, keeping Rose busy with ringing up sales and putting away clothing. Helio Fashions had a devoted client base, and she was accustomed by now to seeing women dressed in their very best to come do some shopping. Most women in London wore shirtdresses or suits when they shopped, and they always looked as though they'd taken an hour to do their hair and makeup first.

Rose herself was tired of all the work getting ready involved, and it had only been a week. She still teased her hair and put it up, because that was fun and she was good at it. The pale shades of makeup and the way she had to coat her face in foundation wasn't as much fun, and now she left her face bare, wearing only eyeliner and mascara and some lip gloss. It made her still feel like herself, not herself pretending to be someone else.

"Mr. Troy will be here soon," Iris said to Rose after lunch. "I'm just going to pop into the office and make sure all the invoices he wants to look at are ready. Mind the place for me?"

"Sure." Rose smiled and settled back at the front counter. She busied herself by straightening the boxes and tissue paper, then moved on to dusting the till. It was moments like this that made her feel...well, bored. She knew the Doctor was back at the flat, hard at work, and she was here ringing up sales and having to be polite to complete strangers. Running for your life seemed a lot easier.

Rose's thoughts were interrupted by the gentle chime of the bell that rang whenever the door to the shop opened. Instead of the usual sort of customer, it was a tall, dark-haired man who entered. He stood inside the door for a moment, looking all around the shop. There was an odd look of appraisal in his eyes, and Rose had a sudden suspicion about who this man was.

He spotted Rose and immediately headed her way. Stopping before her, he surveyed her with the same appraising look.

"You must be Rose Tyler." He held out his hand. "Hector Troy. I own this shop."

Rose shook his hand. "I'm Rose, yes. Nice to meet you."

"How are you enjoying it so far?"

She smiled. "It's been interesting," she answered truthfully. "I'm learning a lot."

"Excellent. Iris says that you're a hard worker. I appreciate that."

"Thank you," Rose murmured, and thankfully to be relieved of further conversation when Iris came back out onto the sales floor.

"Mr. Troy! I didn't know you were here."

"I just got here," he assured her. "Rose, we'll be in the back office. You can mind things out here, can't you?"

"Of course."

It was close to closing time before Mr. Troy departed. Iris rejoined Rose, who had been putting out the clothing that had arrived earlier.

"I'm so sorry," Iris said guiltily. "I didn't mean to leave you out here alone for so long."

"It was really no problem," Rose assured her. "Not like you got to decide, was it?"

"No." Iris shook her head and started to pick up the empty boxes at their feet.

"Besides, I enjoy it." And Rose did enjoy it. The stream of customers was steady but slow, and she thought the music playing on the radio was fun. "So what did he want, anyway?" Rose finished up the last item of clothing and hung a navy dress on the rack. "Took you a long time."

"We were going over sales figures. He wanted to check a few numbers before making a final decision."

"About what?"

"Mr. Troy is going to expand the shop." Iris said. "I don't believe it. We've only been open...well, it's been about a year. But he wants to knock down the wall between our space and that empty space next door, make the shop larger. Maybe a carry a men's line."

"That'd be nice," Rose said, thinking of the Doctor and how he was refusing to wear anything other than his brown suit.

Iris glanced at her. "That's right," she said in surprise. "For a moment I forgot all about John."

She sounded apologetic, but as Rose herself needed a moment to remember who John was, she didn't mind.

"Do you think he'd wear anything we sold?" Iris continued.

"Maybe. He's pretty particular about what he wears." Rose spoke with a straight face. "When he likes something, he hangs on to it for ages and ages."

"What is it with men and hating to shop?" Iris wanted to know. "Just no appreciation for the fun things in life."

"The Doc - John likes to shop," Rose was compelled to say. "Just for stuff that he finds interesting." She nudged aside an empty carton. "Let me dress the mannequin in the window, and then we'll be done."

* * *

The Doctor was always aware of time. It hovered in his consciousness. Timelines, real and potential, flowed before his eyes. Even so, he was mildly surprised to look up from Sally Sparrow's transcript and become aware of the fact that it was long past lunchtime.

He set down the bizarre, one-way conversation Sally Sparrow had written down - _Well, I can hear you. Not hear you exactly, but I know everything you're going to say_ - and glanced around. Where was Rose? Abruptly, he missed her. He missed seeing her all the time, missed sharing adventures and misadventures with her. This dividing of labor was not to his liking if it meant that Rose would be away from him for long periods of time each day. She belonged with him. He scowled at the papers as if they were to blame for his current predicament.

Well, if it was the end of the workday - 4:57 pm - it was almost time for Rose to come home. Standing up, the Doctor stretched his legs. Patting his pockets to make sure the sonic screwdriver was there, he headed out of the flat, locking the door behind him.

No one was around as he walked down the hallway and jogged down the stairs. The door closest to the exit doors opened a bit, and the Doctor waved.

"Hello, Mrs. MacMurray!"

There might have been a face in the crack of the door, but he wasn't sure. The door closed without a reply. The Doctor grinned to himself. Hands in his pockets, he whistled a careless tune, smiling indiscriminately at people as he passed them by on the street.

1969 was so much fun! The moon landing to look forward to, of course. Someday he'd take Rose there for real, so she could watch it happen. Once he had the TARDIS back they'd go, he vowed.

It was no work at all to track down the shop where Rose was working. A golden sun hung above the entrance. The neighboring storefront was vacant, but there was a beauty shop on the other side. As the Doctor walked closer, the beauty shop's pink door opened, discharging a massive smell of hairspray that made him recoil. An elderly woman stepped out, her white hair swept up in a massive knot at the top of her head. She nodded a greeting at him as she walked by. The Doctor stared after her, in awe of the amount of hairspray that must have gone into her hairstyle.

A sound coming from the vacant storefront drew his attention away. Curious, he stepped over to it, but before he could investigate he caught sight of the picture window of Rose's shop. Rose herself stood there, fitting a dress onto a mannequin. Her hair fell across her face, and the skirt of her dress rode up high on her legs. One leg was stretched out for balance, pulling the material tightly across her chest.

The Doctor stood, poleaxed. Rose finished struggling with the mannequin and stepped down out of the display window, pushing her hair back from her face. She saw the Doctor out on the street and her face lit up with an immediate smile. He grinned back and pushed open the door of the shop.

"Doc - Hello!" Rose beamed, hurrying to him and taking his hand. "Iris! This is - this is my - er..." She floundered, unsure what to call him.

"You must be John," Iris said warmly. "So nice to meet you." She shook the Doctor's hand with a firm grip. "Are you finished with your studies for the weekend?"

"Er, yes," the Doctor said. "Slow part of the semester right now." He looked down at Rose. "Do you have much longer? I can wait." He heard the eagerness in his voice but didn't care. He would wait as long as he had to, but he was not leaving without Rose.

"Young love," Iris said with a wistful note in her voice. "Go on. I'll take care of things here."

Rose was already heading for her bag. "You sure?"

"Have a good weekend."

"You too!" Rose grabbed her bag, allowed the Doctor to take her hand, and walked out of the shop.

"Mmm, fresh air!" she said cheerfully. "Did you have a good day?"

He didn't answer her. "I got tired of waiting for you all day. Are you sure you need to work so hard?"

Rose smiled, relishing the feel of her hand in his. "We need to eat, Doctor."

"Rose, we've been over this. I can get whatever we need."

"We can't keep taking stuff that's not ours," she interrupted him. "Better to save the sonic and the psychic paper for when we really need them. Besides, both of us don't need to be in the flat. I'm useless to you."

"Don't say that," he said sternly, pointing a finger at her nose. "You are very necessary to me, Rose Tyler."

She was absurdly pleased, but tried to keep things light. "That's me. As necessary as oxygen and chips."

"Oh, no," he corrected her, pulling her in by the hand so their shoulders touched. "_Much_ more necessary than oxygen."

Rose smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

Rose woke up on Saturday with the sure, lovely knowledge that today was her own day. The entire weekend off with nothing to do. She didn't have to go to work, she didn't have to spray her hair with enough hair spray to choke a horse, she didn't have to endure any whistles on the street as she walked to work. Honestly, sometimes this time period was a right pain.

The clock by the bedside read 8:34. Rose stretched for a moment and threw back the covers. She'd bought a nightgown set at work earlier in the week, a pink babydoll gown that went to her knees and had thin straps and a low neckline. It was very pretty and made her feel like a film star. She pulled on the matching robe, which was equally pink but thankfully made of lined cotton so that she had some measure of modesty. The nights were getting warmer in London, and the flat did not have a good cooling system. The nightgown was a change from her usual flannel pajamas, but was a lot more comfortable.

She opened the door of her room and listened. Silence. The Doctor might be out, or he might be reading or writing or trying to rewire the coffeepot to make decent coffee. Deciding to start the day right then, Rose ducked into the bathroom to take a quick bath.

It was the weekend, so she let her hair air dry and hang straight, not wanting to fuss with it. The pants she'd bought from work yesterday were still cute - bell bottomed, of course, but that was all she could find anywhere - and looked almost normal to her twenty-first -century eyes. Granted, the giant red and yellow flowers stood out, but she was learning that the more bizarre patterns on clothing were, the more admiring comments she received.

Rose tugged on the trousers and a red t-shirt, slipped on her trainers and fluffed out her hair some more to encourage it to dry faster. The heart and lock set on her chain caught on her shirt as she was putting on her earrings. She pulled the chain out to hang outside. The charms hung just above her breasts, and she regarded them for a minute. She hadn't let herself think about what the Doctor might have meant in giving them to her. Something was happening between them, and it was strange and wonderful and she was afraid to do anything that would mess it up. She was afraid that if she pushed the issue she would find out that the Doctor didn't realize what the gift meant to her. She didn't want to find out that his feelings for her were not what she wanted them to be. So she pushed those rebellious thoughts away and went to look for him.

"Morning!" He was sitting at the kitchen table, pouring dark liquid into two mismatched, chipped mugs. "I got the percolator to work!" He beamed at her. "Better than Starbucks!"

"Yeah? What'd you do?" Rose slid into the seat across from him and accepted the mug he handed her.

"Nothing much," he said modestly. "Just convinced its inner workings that it's a digital coffeemaker."

"Thought they didn't have digital in this time?"

"They don't, no. But this one thinks it's one now, and it makes lovely coffee." He toasted her with his mug and tried it. "Not bad."

"No," she agreed. "It's pretty good."

"It's a beautiful day out there," the Doctor observed, gesturing with his mug toward the windows in the living room. "We should go and enjoy the sunshine later."

"Later?" she questioned. "Do we have something planned for right now?"

He sighed and ruffled his hair. "We should have breakfast first."

"I'm fine for now." Rose finished her coffee. "What have you got to do? Are you any closer to fixing things?" She couldn't keep the hopeful note out of her voice.

"I did some calculations while you were sleeping." The Doctor stood up and switched off the percolator.

He was avoiding looking at her, and Rose felt a stab of unease. What wasn't he telling her? Knowing that to push him would only make him more silent, she forced herself to sound upbeat.

"So let's have a look. Show me what you've been doing."

"There are a lot of bits and pieces here that I haven't put together yet." The Doctor indicated a pile of papers sitting on the coffee table.

Rose stood up and walked to the living room, picking them up to glance through. The Doctor followed her, taking the pile from her hands and rifling through it.

He handed her an envelope. "I haven't gotten around to that yet."

"You haven't?" Rose looked up at him in astonishment. "What have you been doing?"

Incredulous, he opened his mouth to issue a retort when he saw her grin.

"Rose Tyler," he said warningly, "you have to some nerve."

Her tongue poked out from between her teeth. "Yes, I do. I'm just kidding," she assured him. "There's a lot of stuff here."

"There is," he agreed. "Volume isn't the issue here, though. More the fact that nothing here makes any kind of sense."

"Well, we know what the list of movies is for," she pointed out.

"Yes, but that leaves us with a few years to fill until technology catches up to that. In the meantime I have to figure out what to do with the remainder. That, and finding new takeaways like the Indian place around the corner, have kept me busy most of the week."

"That curry was marvelous!" she remembered. "Well worth every moment of your time. I approve." She gave him a regal nod and sat down. The Doctor sat on the couch beside her and started shuffling through several white papers, murmuring to himself.

Rose opened the envelope and scanned its contents. "It's a letter."

"Mm hm," the Doctor replied absently, still focused on his own reading.

Rose dropped the letter and looked at the black and white photographs that accompanied it. She stared hard at them before reading the letter again.

"Doctor."

"Hmm?"

"You listening to me?"

"Yep."

He clearly was not, so she reached over and nudged his arm. Startled, he blinked at her. "Rose?"

"Listen to this," she said.

_"My dearest Sally Sparrow," _Rose read out loud,_ "if my grandson has done as he promises he will, then as you read these words it has been mere minutes since we last spoke. For you. For me it has been over 60 years. The third of the photographs is of my children. The youngest is Sally. I named her after you, of course._

_ "I suppose, unless I live to a really exceptional old age, I will be long gone as you read this. Don't feel sorry for me. I have led a good and full life. I've loved a good man and been well loved in return. You would have liked Ben. He was the very first person I met in 1920._

_ "To take one breath in 2007 and the next in 1920 is a strange way to start a new life, but a new life is exactly what I've always wanted._

_ "My mum and dad are gone by your time, so really there's only Lawrence to tell. He works at the DVD store on Queen Street. I don't know what you're going to say to him, but I know you'll think of something. Just tell him I love him."_

_"Kathy Costello Nightingale Wainwright"_

Rose set the papers down, her eyes shining with tears. "She went from 2007 back 60 years! There's a note here that says this Sally Sparrow brought her to that house the day she went back in time."

The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Wester Drumlins. The Angels are in 2007, sending people back through time and taking their energy." He frowned. "And unless we get back, they'll eventually get into the TARDIS, and that will start a chain of events that will be impossible to stop."

"How come we got sent to 1969 and this Kathy went all the way back to 1920?"

"Each Angel possesses a different year, if you will. We were attacked by the same one, so we landed in the same time."

"You mean if there had been two Angels we might have ended up in two different places?" Rose was appalled. She might have landed somewhere alone and been completely helpless.

"No sense in fussing over that now," the Doctor said in a cheerful tone, trying to distract her. "That didn't happen. We're here and we're together. Better with two, eh?"

Rose, her attention back on the letter, was listening with only half an ear. "So the girls went to the - went to Wester Drumlins, started to look around. Kathy vanishes, and then there's a knock at the door and her grandson is there asking for Sally Sparrow. Incredible!"

"Incredible," he agreed. "Of course, our Miss Sparrow had just moments to come to terms with what was happening. Kathy had a lot longer to plan and think about what to say."

"At least she had the chance to say goodbye." Rose folded everything back into the envelope and set it on the table in front of them. "She got to say goodbye."

The Doctor looked away. Her forlorn voice, more than the words she spoke, went through him like a spike. There was no accusation there, but he heard it just the same.

"You were able to say goodbye to your mother," the Doctor said quietly, still not looking at Rose.

"I know. But my mates back home will-" She stopped and took a deep breath. "Well, they'll miss me, yeah? Only it's because they think I died at Canary Wharf."

"I'm sorry."

She didn't want him to apologize, and she didn't want to hear it.

"It's not your fault, is it? You didn't bring the Cybermen over. You didn't open the Void ship and let the Daleks through."

"I didn't stop Torchwood, either. How many people died that day? It's a miracle that we survived."

She badly wanted to feel his arms around her, to reassure her. But that didn't seem likely. She stood up, getting a good look at the flat for the first time all week and winced. There were papers everywhere, and remnants of their takeaway dinner from the night before.

"You know what? We need to pick up a bit. And do the washing up, and run some stuff to the laundry. And food! There's no more food. We need to go shopping." She glanced over at him, expecting him to enter into her enthusiasm.

He did not. "There are more important things that need to be dealt with, Rose," he pointed out.

"You don't do domestic," she said flatly. "I know that. You make sure I know that all the time. But we're here, Doctor. We're here with nowhere else to go, and unless we start doing domestic we will never make it."

"We need to work on this." He indicated the papers all around him.

"I'm not any good at that," she told him. "But I am good at making sure we can stay alive long enough for you to figure it out."

"By doing the shopping and cooking and cleaning? Is that what you think is worth doing?" The Doctor heard his words but couldn't take them back. The strain of worrying about how they would get back home was taking its toll. A distant part of him warned that he was overreacting, but he was unable to stop himself. "We happen to be stuck here, but that doesn't mean we need to act like an ordinary couple from 1969!"

His words stung, because that's what Rose had thought they'd been doing. They'd been acting like an ordinary couple, and she had loved every moment of it.

"I'm not asking you to get a mortgage!" Her voice was scathing, past hurts coming back to wound her when she'd thought she'd gotten over them. "I'm sorry you have to share this with me, but maybe if we work together we can get back! Do you think I _like_ working in a shop all day? You get to stay here and relax and use your brilliant mind to solve this, and I have to go ring up dresses and ugly, ugly polyester pants!"

She stopped to catch her breath, surprised to feel the tears in her eyes.

He was shaken to the core. "Rose. Please, don't."

"I didn't ask for this!" she cried. "I didn't ask to get sent back. But we're here and maybe we're supposed to be here, so can we please just be normal and act like we belong until we can go home?" She whirled away before he could answer her, stalking back down the hallway.

In the past he might not have noticed if a companion was upset. He would have continued doing what he was doing, leaving them to work things out on their own. But Rose was not just a companion. He stood up and followed her. She was gathering up a small laundry basket that she kept in the bedroom. He hovered in the doorway, unsure what to say.

"She went back in time and had to start over." Rose knew he was there but spoke without turning to look at him. "Time passed just like it always does, and she got older and she died."

"That's what life is, Rose," he said gently. "That's what humans do. That's what every living creature does."

"Not every creature," she threw at him, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"So what happens, then?" she demanded. "What happens if we have to wait until 1995 to get those DVD eggs going? What will happen to me?"

"Nothing will happen to you! You'll be here. With me."

"Here! Aging, Doctor! I'll be getting older! You'll look just the same, but I'm getting older every day, and in twenty years I'll be as old as my mum!" Tears ran down her face. "I don't want to spend my life here! I want to get home!"

"Once we get the TARDIS back..."

"Will it reverse my aging?" she demanded.

"I...I don't know. Without the TARDIS to run tests..."

She turned away. "Kathy, that girl in the letter. She grew old and died in the wrong time. She had a husband and a family so she didn't care. Am I supposed to meet someone now? Introduce myself and act like I'm totally normal? Get married and have a life with you in the background? Call you my weird cousin, and then my nephew, and then -" Rose forced herself to stop.

"I feel like Sarah Jane," she murmured. "You left her behind and she had a life and then you came back looking like, like _you_, and she was old." Fresh tears filled her eyes. "It's not fair. It's not fair that we have to stay here in this time."

"It's the slow path," he said quietly. "It never was for either one of us, was it? Only now we've got no choice."

"We managed all right on the TARDIS, though, didn't we? Stopping for milk and eggs, going to all those markets and bazaars." Rose wiped at her face.

"It loses its luster when you have to do your own cooking and cleaning and washing up, though," he conceded.

"Speaking of washing. You've been wearing that suit all week. It should be cleaned."

He glanced down at his clothes. "I've been cleaning it," he said defensively. "Rubbing away the odd dirt stain, for example. And the sonic screwdriver takes care of the rest."

"Doctor."

"Rose, this is what I'm comfortable in." He was not going to change his clothes. Changing your clothes was what humans did. Ordinary men. Not him. He would never have the luxury.

She fingered the sleeve of his jacket. "A tiny rip," she observed. "How long can you keep it up?" She met his eyes. "We'll take your stuff to the cleaners and you can go native for a bit. Dress like the locals."

He winced.

"You can wear the suit on special occasions," she wheedled.

He sighed, and Rose knew she had won.

"Here." She walked to the wardrobe and pulled out the bottom two drawers. Rows of the clothing they had bought for him were neatly folded, still wrapped and with the tags attached. "Choose something to wear and we'll go find the laundry."

He stood staring at the clothes while she quickly stripped the bed of its sheets and pillowslip. She bundled them up in her arms, headed for the bathroom for the towels, and dropped the entire bundle on the floor by the front door. When she returned he was still standing there, staring at the wardrobe.

"Doctor?"

He answered her without turning around. "This...this is strange, Rose. This is all so strange. I've never been stuck anywhere long enough before to..."

"To change your clothes?" she asked humorously, her anger having evaporated.

He didn't laugh or turn to face her. "I've been running for so long that I don't remember what it's like to stand still." The Doctor spoke quietly, his gaze fixed on the wall. "I left home and I hated going back. Every time I left I was relieved to be free of them, and by the time I went back to save them...well, how could I stand still after that?"

She walked over to him, standing close enough that he could sense her presence but not close enough to touch him.

"It wasn't your fault that you weren't like them."

"Wasn't it? I could have done what was expected and stayed put. Not gone running off, consorting with humans and others."

She smiled sweetly at him. "If you had, you never would have met me."

"No," he said softly. "I never would have known that Rose Tyler existed."

"And if you'd stayed you would have died in the Time War." It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it before the words were out of her mouth.

Her eyes darkened and he frowned. "Maybe. Maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe some other poor bastard would have done what I had to do, and he'd be the one left traveling alone."

She touched his hand. "Doctor, it's okay to feel regret and sadness."

He leaned down so their foreheads touched. "Do you feel regret and sadness?" he asked quietly.

"Sometimes," she whispered back. "Only because of Mum."

"I feel it every moment of my life, Rose. Regret for one thing or another. Right now it's regret that I've brought you to this. I've put you in danger even though I've been trying to keep you safe."

"How am I in danger here?" she demanded. "It's safer than the year 2007, to be sure. We'll find a way back."

His arms came around her, tightening so hard she gasped.

"I'm afraid, Rose. I'm so afraid this won't work, and that something will go wrong and I'll strand you here for the rest of your life."

"You won't let anything happen." She spoke with a forced cheerfulness.

"I don't know how we're going to accomplish all that we need to do without waiting thirty years in relative time. You were right." He released her and framed her face with his hands. "Rose, I don't know what will happen to you."

"It's not your fault. You didn't cause this."

"But I still can't protect you!"

"We're in this together, yeah? We'll figure everything out and get back. I know we will."

Her faith in him was staggering. After 900 years, it only took a human girl to bring him to his knees and make him helpless before the universe. His gaze fell on the heart lock and key set he had placed on her TARDIS chain. The feelings he had for her were so strong that he had to let go and take a step back, afraid of what her reaction would be if he did what he wanted to just then.

He turned back to his clothes. "What do I wear? What an appalling assortment of colors."

Rose blinked. She had been so certain that he was about to kiss her. She'd lifted her face up and parted her lips, and then the look in his eyes was gone and he'd let go of her. She took a step back, disappointment flooding through her.

"Those trousers." She pointed from the doorway. "And that shirt. I'll just go put the laundry in a bag." She turned and left the room, leaving the Doctor alone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

Their lives continued, bumping along from day to day as they tried to make sense of it all. The Doctor read and made notes and tried to draw conclusions based on the few clues that had been left to him. He didn't get very far on his best days, and he was frustrated by the fact that nothing appeared to be taking place until the 1980's, when Sally Sparrow was born. The potential thirty-eight years that they might have to wait until getting home weighed on him.

He had, however, agreed to stop wearing his suit. It had come back from the cleaners in perfect condition, but he knew it was only a matter of time before these ordinary human cleaning techniques wore it down to shreds. It hung in the wardrobe in Rose's bedroom, ready for the next special occasion.

In the meantime he had conceded, with much ill-grace, to wear regular clothing. Rose thought he looked very nice, and told him so. He thought he looked ridiculous. Plain trousers and shirts and jumpers, and it all had to be washed and ironed and folded away. He was rather immune to the styles of the day. Where Rose giggled at outlandish colors and bellbottoms, he saw only clothes. Having spanned time and space and too many alien cultures to count, there was very little that could shock his sensibilities, clothing-wise.

Rose lent her support as the Doctor tried to solve their problem. She went to work and folded dresses and rang up sales and was spoken down to by well-bred ladies who had no use for ordinary shopgirls. She paid for their rent and for their food, although she strongly suspected the Doctor was making use of his psychic paper and sonic screwdriver when she wasn't around. Things she hadn't bought kept popping up around the flat. Small tools, wires, tabloid papers.

The strain between them was not as obvious, but it was there. The constant worry about what would happen could not be avoided, no matter how much they both wanted to. Still, they both tried to keep things normal and upbeat.

"What have you got planned this weekend, Rose?" Iris asked one Friday afternoon. It was a slow sales day, and Iris was sending out the monthly bills for the store's charge account customers.

Rose leaned against the counter. "I don't know. The Doc- John's been working on a project and he's been pretty busy."

"All the more reason to go out and have some fun!" Iris grinned at her. "You're both young. Live it up a bit!"

"What about you?" Rose asked with real curiosity. Iris was in her late twenties, and she was very pretty. Yet Rose had never heard her mention so much as a casual date.

"Oh, I'll do the shopping, clean up my flat, the usual," Iris said lightly.

"What, those are your plans? You're young, Iris. Live it up a bit!"

Iris smiled to show her acknowledgement of those words turned against her. "I do have fun. I go out with my mates now and then. We'll probably go out to eat or something."

"Any male mates in there?" Rose teased.

Iris actually blushed. "Maybe. One."

"What's his name?" Rose demanded instantly. "How come you've never mentioned him?"

Iris set down her pen. "We're just friends is all. I don't think he thinks of me that way."

"Well, you won't know until you try."

"I'm too traditional," Iris sighed. "I can't just make the first move."

"Why not? Maybe he's too afraid to do it."

"Rose!" Iris went back to her accounts. "You are so bad."

Making the first move on a bloke you fancied was hardly being bad, but for this era, and for Iris's upbringing, Rose could see how it was. She really did miss her proper time and place sometimes.

"You'll never know until you try," she finally said.

"Is that how you met John?" Iris glanced up from her accounts book. "Did you ask him out for a drink?"

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it. "Not exactly. We kind of bumped into each other once. And then he bumped into me while he was, er, looking for something." The words were so non-descriptive, and in no way conveyed the beauty and magic that had happened to her beginning with those murderous shop dummies. But Iris would never be able to understand all that. Iris would never be able to feel the turn of the earth.

"Well, it's obvious that he adores you. He can't take his eyes off of you whenever I see you together."

Rose smiled tentatively. "Yeah?" She heard the pleasure in her voice and inwardly rolled her eyes at herself. She was being such a dork!

"Yeah. Not to mention the way he's been showing up to walk you home every night." Iris nodded toward the door, and Rose turned to see the Doctor walking in. He was wearing dark trousers and a blue button-down shirt. Under the shirt was a blue t-shirt, and over it all was a short brown coat Rose had brought home for him. It saved the wear and tear on his long brown coat.

"Is it time to go?" Rose asked absently, her attention focused on the Doctor.

"I'll see you Monday. You can take off."

Rose's focus was still on the Doctor. His eyes were fixed on hers as he walked over.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Be right back." Rose smiled and ran back to get her things.

"Did you get a lot of work done today, John?" Iris asked, unlocking the till to count up the money.

He had been staring after Rose. Now he blinked and brought himself back to the present.

"Yes, I did, thank you. Lots of work, some progress. I'm hopeful for a breakthrough very soon."

"And what's your subject again? You're a student, right? A graduate student?"

"Here I am!" Rose linked her arm through the Doctor's, sparing him from making up lies about coursework and professors. "Bye, Iris!"

"Bye."

"So did you have a productive day?" Rose asked as they walked down the street. She hitched the strap of her bag over her shoulder and shifted the tote bag that held her lunchbox and other odds and ends that she brought to work with her.

The Doctor reached for the tote bag, easily taking it from her despite her trying to tug it back.

"I did, actually. Someone from Sally Sparrow's time will be intersecting with our time here very soon. I'm working on a way to be able to track them down when they appear."

Rose looked at him quickly, feeling a spark of hope. "I thought you said nothing would happen until 1995?"

"Oh, I never said that! We may have to wait that long for the DVD production, but things will be popping up for us to handle in the meantime." The Doctor smiled cheerfully, as though this was not a fact that Rose would have liked very much to have known earlier.

"But you let me think that we'd have to just, just sit here and wait!" she cried indignantly.

"Well, I may have thought that," he admitted, rubbing his ear. "As it turns out, however, once I looked through everything that Sally Sparrow left me-"

"You're just now reading it all?" she demanded. "Doctor!"

He flinched at the condemning note in her voice. "Things have been a bit busy around here," he said defensively. "Anyway, yes, I have now read everything, and yes, things will happen."

Rose sighed and opted to let it go. The thought that she wouldn't be waiting around for a few decades cheered her.

"Are you sure it'll work?"

"Well, it's not even finished yet," he pointed out. "I assume it will work, because Sally Sparrow said so. Also, I'm brilliant, so anything I come up with is bound to work." He grinned down at her.

"Sally Sparrow said so," Rose murmured. "Sounds like a nursery rhyme."

The Doctor chuckled. "Sally, Sally, Sparrow mine, saw an Angel and fell through time."

"Not bad," she approved. Then, feeling she was taking a chance but knowing she had to, she ran her tongue over her lips and glanced his way. "You look nice today."

The Doctor grimaced. Giving up his suit and coat had been the most difficult thing he'd done in a while. He still felt like a small boy playing dress up in a grown man's clothing, but he had to admit that the fabrics were comfortable. The coat Rose had given him didn't have transdimensional pockets, of course, but there was still room for the things he liked to carry around. Luckily he was able to keep wearing his white trainers.

"You do look nice," Rose insisted. "It's high time you stopped wearing the same thing all around the galaxy."

"I liked doing that," he said moodily.

"Quit." She bumped him with her elbow. "What have we got planned? Anything?"

"Well, no alien invasions or mysterious occurrences that need investigating. So it looks like a night of eating takeout in front of the telly."

That sounded like the best plan ever to Rose. "Marvelous. Let's do it."

They got Chinese takeaway on the way back to the flat. Rose paused to check their mailbox, now labeled with a small card that read _Smith_. A faint niggle of guilt crowded her, and she glanced at their landlady's door. Sweet old Mrs. MacMurray thought they were married, and here Rose hadn't even let the Doctor know. If he'd noticed that the box said _Smith_ and not _Tyler_ or _Tyler and Smith_, he had not commented. She decided it would just have to be one of those things that she didn't tell him for his own good.

"Rose?" The Doctor was stopped on the stairs, carrying their food and her bag.

"Coming." Rose quickly checked the box. "Empty."

"We'll have to start up a few magazine subscriptions."

Once inside Rose slipped off her shoes and dove into the food. The Doctor moved more slowly, watching her in amusement as he took off his coat.

"Did you skip lunch?"

"No, but this smells so good!" Rose sat in front of the television, food in her lap.

The Doctor turned the television on with the sonic screwdriver. "You're going to get grease on your dress."

"Lo mein noodles. Don't care." Rose fished out the chopsticks, considered them, and abandoned them for the plastic fork.

The Doctor shook his head and went to the kitchen, taking two bottles of Coca-Cola out of the refrigerator.

"Here you are." He aimed the sonic at the bottlecaps to loosen them up and set one down beside Rose before sitting next to her.

"When did you get Coke? The cupboards were pretty bare this morning."

"Today." He unfurled a paper napkin with a flourish and handed it to her.

"You did the shopping?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised!" He dug out a box of food and opened it, careful to protect his lap with a napkin first.

"Well, it's only that you hate to go shopping." Their argument about doing domestic was still fresh, and while Rose didn't want to bring it up again, she felt it was only fair to address it.

"Sometimes the shopping is fun," the Doctor said reluctantly. "And sometimes it needs to be done." What he didn't say, and what he felt guilty about, was that he'd been expecting her to work all week and still do all the shopping for food and other necessary items. It was getting harder and harder to listen to his internal arguments that she was better at that sort of thing.

"Did you pick up some tea?" she couldn't help asking.

He slanted her a look and then a grin. "I did."

"Then all is well," Rose said grandly.

They ate in a comfortable silence, sharing bits of food with each other. The evening news was on, and the talk was all about the upcoming trip to the moon.

"That's a brilliant day." The Doctor nodded to the television. "The Americans will land on the moon. The first tiny step on the way to space exploration. I'll take you there, as soon as we have the TARDIS back."

Rose smiled. "I'd like that."

Dinner was done and everything cleared away. Rose was about to change into something more comfortable than her work clothes when there was a knock on the door.

"Are you expecting anyone?" she asked.

"No. Who would I be expecting?"

The Doctor went to answer it, opening it cautiously.

"Oh, it's Jeff!" he said to Rose over his shoulder. "Hello, Jeff."

Jeff did not waste time on pleasantries.

"I'm going to the movies with a friend. Want to come along? You two don't get out much lately."

Rose considered this. "What are you going to see?"

"_2001: A Space Odyssey_."

"Your friend won't mind if we tag along?" Rose had heard of the movie, of course, but she'd never seen it.

Jeff scowled. "Probably not."

The Doctor smiled. "Is it the pretty blonde we saw at the pub last time we were there?"

Jeff sighed. "Kitty. Yeah. What's a bloke gotta do to make a girl know he likes her?" he demanded to Rose.

"Er..."

"I mean, it's not like John just hit you over the head one day and dragged you off to the altar! There are steps involved in this process!"

"What altar?" The Doctor asked in alarm.

"We'll meet you downstairs," Rose told Jeff before shutting the door. "I just need to change."

"What altar, Rose?"

"Let me just get out of this dress!" she called, running down the hallway to her bedroom.

The Doctor stood there with a frown on his face until he heard Rose calling him.

"Doctor!"

"What?" he called back.

"I need a hand with the zip! It's stuck!"

"What do you need to change for?" he asked, walking into her room. "You look very nice."

She smiled at him. "Thanks, but it's been a long day in tights and this dress. Can you undo it?" She turned around, presenting him with her back. The green dress slipped off of her shoulder, the zip in back snagged halfway down her back.

The Doctor swallowed. He could see the back of her pink bra, and there was a lot of smooth skin showing. He stood there, unable to move.

Rose glanced at him over her shoulder, her hair brushing her shoulders. "Doctor?"

As she moved the arm holding the dress against her body shifted, and he could see the lacy cups of her bra. He cleared his throat and reached out for the zipper.

"Certainly. We'll have you out of that dress in just a jiffy." He heard his words and froze. She didn't say anything, so he decided he was safe and pulled the zipper down. It had snagged on the dress's material but now pulled free and let him zip it down to the small of Rose's back. It stopped just above her pink knickers.

Rose stepped away from him and turned. "Thanks."

"Yep. Anytime. I'll just wait out here -" The Doctor turned to go and promptly tripped on something that had caught on his shoe. He had superior Time Lord reflexes, but those reflexes had no hope against a partially dressed Rose Tyler. He stumbled, trying to catch himself. Rose reached for him and managed to pull them both off-balance and onto the floor in a heap.

"Oof," she said heavily. The floor was hard and the carpet rather thin.

He'd landed on the floor beside her. "Oh! Sorry. Are you okay?" He levered himself up on one arm and scanned her for injuries.

"I'm okay." Rose was suddenly breathless. The dress had slipped down around her waist in the fall, and her bare skin was pressed against the Doctor's shirt as he hovered above her.

"Good." He sounded equally breathless, and as he gazed into her eyes he lowered himself back down so their faces were only inches apart.

"Rose," he whispered.

Rose closed her eyes. This was it. She had been waiting for so long, and finally here was proof that he wasn't indifferent to her. If the expression on his face didn't convince her, the hardness of his body did. She opened her eyes and smiled.

"Hello," she whispered.

"Hello," he whispered back.

His head moved closer to hers, his eyes intent on her mouth. She parted her lips, waiting, and was jolted by the sudden knocking on the door.

The Doctor jerked up and cursed. "What the-"

"Five minutes and I leave without you!" Jeff hollered through the door.

"Damn him," the Doctor muttered.

Rose became aware of her state of undress. The knock had broken the spell, and now she shifted uncomfortably underneath the Doctor. He caught his breath as she moved and Rose stopped, realizing what her movements would be doing to him.

"Doctor?"

"For once," he murmured, "Just once, I'm not going to be interrupted. I"m not going to stop myself."

"What-" Her words were swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her. Rose closed her mind and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on hers, running a hand through his hair while holding his head in place with her other hand. He kissed with single-minded dedication, and Rose fully approved.

It might have gone on for some time, but Rose had to breathe, and she pulled away and gasped for breath.

"Sorry," the Doctor said. "I forgot that you can't hold your breath as long as I can."

She smiled up at him, arms around his neck. "I didn't mind."

He cleared his throat. "Then perhaps we ought to-"

What he thought they ought to do was never heard. Another knock came at their door, and they heard Jeff yelling.

"Meet me at the Red Umbrella Cinema!"

"I think he got tired of waiting for us," Rose murmured.

The Doctor sighed heavily. "I'll let you get dressed." He moved off of her and got to his feet somewhat clumsily. He held a hand out to Rose and helped her stand. "I'll be out there." He nodded toward the front room.

Rose nodded, suddenly feeling shy. She waited until he had closed the door behind him to move.

"Everything all right, mate?" Jeff asked cheerfully when the Doctor opened the door.

"I thought you were leaving!" the Doctor said indignantly.

"Thought I'd give you a few more minutes, mate. Everything okay?"

The Doctor gave him a withering glare. "Just fine, thank you," he said from between clenched teeth. "Rose is just getting changed."

"Thanks for coming along," Jeff said as they stood in the hallway. "If I thought Kitty would like to be alone with me, well, I'd jump at the chance, but this way she's more likely to be nice to me."

The Doctor frowned in puzzlement. "Is she a friend?"

"Knew her at uni." Jeff shrugged. "She's hot and cold. One minute acts like an ice princess, the next she's flirting with me. Can't get anywhere with her."

"With who?" Rose asked from behind them. She had changed into a white blouse and dark trousers with the narrowest leg she could find. Her hair was brushed and pulled back in a ponytail. She locked the door to the flat and stood in the hallway, looking at them expectantly.

"Kitty," Jeff said gloomily.

"She may or may not be Jeff's girl," the Doctor explained, taking Rose's hand. She glanced at him as their skin touched, uncertain how to react. His attention was on Jeff, and Rose decided that they would act just like they always did, and never mind that they had just shared an amazingly hot kiss on the floor of her bedroom. If there was one thing they were very good at doing, it was pretending things hadn't happened.

They walked to the cinema, just a few blocks away. Rose was glad they had ended up in a central location. Walking when the weather was nice was not a hardship, and it saved money spent on buses and the Tube. On occasion they had caught a taxi ride with one of their alien friends, but it didn't happen too often. The nice thing about the aliens was that they all instantly recognized Rose and the Doctor, and they all refused to charge them fare.

The three of them kept up a casual conversation all the way, with Rose's hand securely in the Doctor's. Once, as they waited to cross the street, he glanced down at her. She smiled up at him and he smiled back, two people sharing a lovely secret.

"There she is." Jeff moved away from them in front of the cinema, hurrying to meet a blonde girl standing by herself.

"So that's Kitty." Rose looked at the other girl appraisingly. "She seems nice."

The Doctor snorted. "Jeff's a bit less than level headed, though, isn't he? So she surely can't be that together."

Rose slapped his arm. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he demanded innocently. "Surely you've noticed that he's a bit careless."

"Well, he's young and single. That's how guys are."

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"You wouldn't know, of course," Rose couldn't resist saying. "You not being human. Or young."

He fixed her with a very stern look, but Jeff was there and talking before he could say something in retaliation.

"I got the tickets. Ready?"

The film was dated, to Rose's eyes, but the reactions of everyone else told her that it was an amazing movie for the time. She sat beside the Doctor, with Kitty on her right and Jeff to the right of Kitty. Rose didn't know what Jeff and his friend were getting up to, but the Doctor kept her entertained by whispering facts about the film, the actors and historical inaccuracies. Rose snuggled down in her seat, content to share the popcorn.

"I think Keir Dullea is so handsome," Kitty whispered to Rose toward the end of the movie.

"Me too," Rose whispered back.

A snort from Jeff's direction let them know that he had heard and wasn't impressed with their opinion.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"Does he have reason to be jealous?" Rose whispered.

Kitty snorted into her popcorn.

By the time the Hal computer was dismantled, Rose had had it with the movie. It had gone on and on, and not even the Doctor's comments were enough to keep her interested.

"I don't see what's so great about it," she complained as they left the theater.

"Are you kidding?" Jeff asked in surprise. "That was amazing!"

"What was the point of the baby at the end? I don't get it. Was he going back in time to start over?"

"Well, I don't know! But it was amazing." Jeff glanced at Kitty for confirmation, but she was looking away.

"_Star Wars_ was better," Rose muttered.

"_Star_ what?" Jeff repeated.

"The HAL 9000 was a bit creepy," Kitty admitted suddenly. "I'm glad there's nothing like that around in real life."

Jeff snorted. "The way computers are built? There's no way they'll ever be small enough to fit in with everyday life."

Rose thought of tiny computers in mobile phones, in iPods and laptops. She suppressed a smile but couldn't help looking over at the Doctor.

"They'd never believe you," he told her.

"Believe her about what?" Kitty asked.

"Oh, Rose thinks the movie had amazing special effects."

"It did," Kitty responded. "Why wouldn't we believe that, Rose?"

"Oh, you know." Rose gestured vaguely, then caught sight of a clock in a storefront window. "Is it really midnight?" She looked around, realizing that it was dark. Walking out of the movie theater, it had seemed natural to have the dark continue outside.

"Midnight and ten seconds," the Doctor confirmed.

"The night's still young!" Kitty looked excited. "Shall we go try that new disco?"

"You two go ahead." The Doctor took Rose's hand. "We're going to get back. It's been a long day."

Kitty looked slightly disappointed. Jeff didn't look disappointed at all.

"Cool," he said. "We'll see you later."

"Bye." Rose waved as they turned and left.

"I am so ready for bed," Rose yawned as they walked back. She heard the words as she spoke them, and she blushed furiously.

If the Doctor took her words at anything other than face value, he didn't how it.

"Eight hours of shut eye for you, Miss Tyler. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," she said lightly.

They didn't talk much on the way back. When they entered the hall of the building, Mrs. MacMurray's door opened just a crack. Rose heard music playing softly, and a think stream of light came through the door.

"Good night, Mrs. MacMurray," she said politely.

The door closed again, and they heard the locks engage.

The Doctor shook his head as he ushered Rose up the stairs to their flat, a hand at her back.

"She's an odd one."

"Maybe she's just lonely."

"Then she'd do better to open the door all the way and say hello," he pointed out.

"Well, maybe she's shy."

The Doctor rolled his eyes as Rose unlocked their door.

"What?" she asked defensively. "Maybe she is!" She locked the door as he turned the lights on.

"Maybe," he agreed. "I'm going to do some work." The Doctor nodded to his work area.

"Okay. I'm going to bed. Good night." Rose hesitated, then came to a decision. She stepped in close, stood on her toes, and quickly kissed his cheek.

"Good night," the Doctor echoed, watching her walk down the hallway. The door to her bedroom opened and closed. He heard her go to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. He heard her get in bed, turn off the light and fall asleep. And still he stood there, the feel of her lips on his face burning like fire.

He was in too deep, and he had never been happier.


	15. Chapter 15

The flat was dark and quiet while Rose slept. With the television programs switching off at midnight the Doctor had nothing much to keep himself occupied. He found himself pacing around the kitchen. Too tense to stay still.

He had kissed Rose. Actually kissed her! He had behaved so utterly unlike himself that he wasn't sure he knew himself any longer. And she hadn't seemed to mind! She had kissed him goodnight. Left him. And now he was in turmoil.

It was the clothes, he decided abruptly. He was wearing these ridiculous human garments, and they were making him forget himself. He strode down the hallway to the bedroom, determined to open the wardrobe and get his suit back. The door was open slightly, and he came to a halt as he opened it and spotted Rose in the bed. Light streamed in from the streetlights outside, highlighting the blonde hair across the pillow. She was sound asleep, wearing a pink nightgown that revealed more than it should have.

Cursing under his breath, the Doctor wheeled around. Back in the kitchen he glared at his trousers and shirt. He didn't dare go into that room while Rose was in that bed. He'd already lost all restraint, and he wasn't sure what he might do next. If his people could see him now, fretting over a mere human girl, they would exile him on the spot. Which was rather ironic, considering that somewhere in London, one of his former selves was already exiled on the spot, consulting with UNIT.

"Hell of a conundrum," he muttered to himself.

As he was pondering what had become of his life since meeting Rose Tyler, he was distracted by a loud noise coming from somewhere outside the flat. This part of London was not overly loud at night, and their neighbors were not the sort to throw loud parties. The Doctor waited a moment before starting to pace around the room again. He needed to snap out of this, he needed to forget that he had ever kissed Rose Tyler- was that another noise?

It was nearly two in the morning. Most people were sound asleep. The Doctor absently checked for his sonic screwdriver as he walked to the door. He listened for a moment before opening it. The hallways were dark, lit only by a few lights on the walls. Another sound, this time coming from downstairs in the lobby, drew him out. He carefully locked the door behind him - no one would get in to Rose while she slept - and moved to the stairs.

A few more muffled sounds, what might have been a human yell, quickly stifled. The Doctor rushed down the steps, scanning in all directions. A door slammed shut somewhere, and as he reached the lobby, looking all around, the noises stopped. Just...stopped.

He stood there, in front of the mailboxes, waiting. Nothing else. No sounds, no thumps, no yells. Whatever it was, it was gone.

"It could've just been a cat," Rose said the next morning when he told her what had happened.

"A cat?" he repeated skeptically. "Rose, a cat would not have made those sounds. Cats meow and, and, purr and hiss."

"Well, cats also grow to be life size nurse-nuns," she pointed out. "Maybe there was one that's just living up to its potential a few million years early."

He stared at her.

"It could happen!" Rose ruined the effect of her statement by giggling. "Doctor, I'm sure it was nothing. These places make all sorts of noises at night. Sometimes it was impossible to go to sleep back on the estate."

With no other evidence to show he was forced to drop the issue. "What have we got planned for today?" he asked instead.

Rose glanced at him in surprise. It was Saturday morning, and she'd spent it the same as the other Saturdays they'd spent in London. A quick whirl through the flat to tidy it up. A trip to the laundry and back to wash their clothes - Rose did these by herself; the Doctor still refused to be so domestic, even if she did threaten to wash a red sock with his white shirts - and putting the clothes away. And then an afternoon of adventure. There was a lot to see in London that Rose had never seen before, and the Doctor delighted in showing it all to her.

"Just the laundry left to do. Once it's put away we're on our own."

"A pity we weren't here a few centuries earlier," he commented as he helped her fold the newly washed clothes on the couch. "They had the most amazing menagerie here, Rose!"

Rose snatched a towel away from him. Her idea of folding was very different from his. The Doctor preferred to just stuff items in drawers until he needed them, where she liked them neatly folded so she didn't have to iron later.

"What, like a zoo? I've been to the zoo before."

"A zoo! No, no, Rose. Much more than!" he corrected her. "By the early 1800's there were lions, tigers, hyenas, bears."

"Oh my," Rose murmured.

"The monarchies all loved the idea of wild animals in display," the Doctor continued, ignoring her interruption. "They were kept private for centuries until the animals finally went on display for the public to view."

"Sounds like a zoo," she pointed out in a sing-song voice.

"Maybe, but does a zoo charge a dog or a cat as admission?"

"Why would they do that? Did they need regular animals?"

The Doctor snorted. "Hardly. No spaying or neutering going on back then. Far too many strays around. No, they were for feeding to the lions."

"What?" Rose was horrified.

"Or you could pay three pence," the Doctor added hastily. "That's what I did, of course. Never supplied a dog or cat myself."

"That is disgusting," Rose stated firmly, snapping her towel as she folded it. "Disgusting."

"Well, we could skip the zoo," he allowed.

"I think we should," she said primly.

"Well, then, I could always get a head start on tracking down the next person to come back from the future."

"That's Michael J. Fox."

"The next person to come back who's not in a DeLorean," the Doctor corrected himself with a grin. "Back from our future. Sally Sparrow-"

"You know what I want to do?" Rose paid no attention to what he was saying. "I want to find Kathy Nightingale."

"Who?" the Doctor asked blankly.

"Sally Sparrow's friend! The one who got sent back to 1920 by the Angels!"

"Oh, the letter," he remembered.

"Yeah." It had been on her mind for days now. Rose had taken to carrying the photos around with her.

"We can't interrupt her timeline that way, Rose."

"What is there to interrupt? It's already happened to her. She's living here knowing that Sally Sparrow won't be born for another twenty years!"

"But why do you want to find her?"

"To, to see her! To see how happy she really is living in the past."

He looked at her quickly. "Do you want to see how she is or how she managed to do it?"

Rose flushed. "That's not it."

"Do you not trust me to get you back where we belong?" His words were quiet, and he was careful not to look at her.

So much of their relationship went unsaid. She still didn't know his true feelings for her. She had never been brave enough to tell him. The kiss they'd shared last night was ignored as though it had never happened, and she just wasn't brave enough to force the issue right then.

She didn't answer. "I'd just like to see her, is all."

She hadn't answered his question, and the Doctor let it drop. "She could be anywhere in England."

Rose went to retrieve the envelope with Kathy's letter. "We'll start here."

The Doctor gave in and sat down on the couch. "Where's the postmark?"

"Hull."

"Hull," he mused. "So she landed there and never left, eh? Surprising."

"Why? Sounds like she met a bloke she liked and stayed."

"A modern young woman, just like you? If you landed in the countryside wouldn't you try to get back to London?"

"If I met a nice man that I fell in love with and who loved me I'd want to stay with him."

Her words hung between them, almost a challenge. He held out his hand for the envelope.

She glanced around. "It should be easy to find her. Is there a phone book here?" The flat was furnished, but somewhat reliably. There had been no knives in the cutlery drawer, but plenty of Barbie dolls wearing crocheted dresses stuck into a roll of toilet paper. Rose had consigned those dolls to a box under the bed.

"Nope. We have the next best thing, though."

"What?"

The Doctor picked up the telephone. "Directory assistance."

Rose smiled. "Good thing one of us has lived in this time before."

Something flashed across his face and was gone. "I don't know that I'd call it a good thing. It set me on my fate, at any rate."

Whatever he had been thinking Rose never found out, because the operator connected him before she could ask.

"Yes, operator! Kathy Wainwright. Hull. Yes, Hull. In Yorkshire."

There was a very long wait while the operator looked for the information. The Doctor wrote it down when he finally had it.

"Here we are. It's a few hours away from here," he warned Rose as he hung up the phone. "Same address as on the letter."

"Then we should go as soon as we can."

"Wait. Let me just..." He gestured to his clothes.

Rose stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Rose Tyler, we are about to meet someone who links our fate to Sally Sparrow's! Momentous occasion."

"All right." She wasn't quite used to him wearing these contemporary clothes, but she had been enjoying it. He looked much younger in the shirts and trousers they'd picked out for him, more like the student he was pretending to be rather than a centuries-old alien.

He had never felt so relieved to put the suit on. He shot the cuffs of his sleeves down past the jacket sleeves and straightened his tie carefully in the mirror. Not since that first Christmas Day had this suit felt so right. Part of him, the part that he usually tried not to listen to, said that he was wearing the suit as armor against Rose. Which was ridiculous, of course.

He heard Rose talking on the phone, evidently inquiring on the best way to get from London to Hull. He buttoned his jacket, undid the last one, and stared at his reflection. He felt like himself again, but he was aware that there was something different as well.

He had kissed Rose Tyler last night. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, and he had no idea what to do next. To do what he really wanted to was impossible. It would be taking advantage of her at a time when she had no other friends. It would be wrong.

"It's wrong," he told his reflection sternly. "It's wrong and you know it."

"What's wrong?" Rose asked from the doorway.

He moved away from the mirror to take her hand and lead her out of the room. "The soap they used at cleaners," he said casually. "Makes the material all stiff."

She glanced at his arm. "Looks the same to me." She rubbed the material between her fingers. "See?"

"Yeah." He covered her hand briefly with his. Her eyes met his and they smiled, and suddenly the unease and tension between them vanished. "Did you get the train schedule?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just give me a sec." And she pulled away from him.

"Where are you going?"

She grinned at him over her shoulder as she hurried to the bedroom, that grin with her tongue between her teeth that made him want to grab her and kiss her again. "I just need to change my clothes!"

He was waiting by the door for her. "I thought we didn't need to change?" he asked pointedly as they walked downstairs to the lobby.

"No," she said very carefully. "I thought you shouldn't change into your suit. I can't go meeting people dressed in jeans! It's not polite."

"It's not?" He was startled by this news. People seemed to wear jeans all over the universe.

"Well, it'll probably be all right in a few years," she conceded, "but right now it's not nice to wear them in public unless you're weeding the flowers or something."

He had never paid attention to the clothing of the people he traveled among, but now that he thought about it, he realized she was right. Had he forgotten the formality of England in the 1960's? Or had he simply never cared?

"Hello, Mrs. MacMurray!" Rose's words broke into his thoughts, and he was grateful to tear his mind away from images of past companions.

"Hello!" he echoed Rose, raising a hand at their landlady. Mrs. MacMurray was a tiny old woman with curly white hair. She was standing by the door of her flat, reading over the morning paper. She wore a faded pink housecoat and white slippers.

"Hello there," she said with a smile. "Going out to enjoy the sunshine?"

"Yes," Rose said cheerfully. "Make sure you do the same!"

Mrs. MacMurray smiled and chuckled as the Doctor opened the door for Rose and ushered her out with a hand on her back. "I'm more of a night owl myself."

"See you later!" Rose called.

"A night owl," the Doctor muttered. "More like a peeping tom."

"Doctor!"

"Peeping thomasina," he amended.

"She's a very nice old lady," Rose said sternly.

He was tired of Mrs. MacMurray. It was a lovely day, and Rose was holding tightly to his hand and looking absurdly pretty in a green dress with a low, square neck. A matching belt was fastened tightly round her waist, and the charms he had given her hung around her neck. He was filled with a sense of happiness that he hadn't felt in a while.

"The train station's a few streets over." Rose pointed with the hand that wasn't being held by the Doctor. Her bag dangled from her wrist.

He glanced down at her white shoes. They were very pretty, with a high heel and a dainty strap across each foot, but he doubted whether they were suitable for walking long distances.

"Will you be able to walk all that way?" he asked in concern.

"Doctor, I've run for my life in shoes less comfortable than these."

"As long as you're okay."

"I'm okay." And Rose set out to prove it by walking jauntily along.

He couldn't help but take notice of the many glances she received from men as they passed by. Rose exuded beauty and kindness and happiness, and her smile was infectious. The Doctor frowned and pulled her a little closer to him.

Rose loved walking in London these days. The sights and sounds were still so new for her. Songs she used to classify as oldies were being heard for the first time, and the Beatles were still regarded as legends. It had made her sad when the Doctor had reminded her that they were to break up the following year.

She nudged the Doctor. "See? No one's wearing jeans out."

"A few people are." He nodded to a group of young men, walking by in a huddle. One winked at Rose. The Doctor glared ferociously and the unfortunate young man quickly turned away.

"Yes, but they're just young guys." And Rose considered the matter dropped. In the next second she stopped, releasing his hand to clutch at his arm.

"Doctor!"

"What is it?"

She raised a shaking hand to point across the street. He followed her line of vision and started violently.


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks for reading along with this fic and commenting! I'm glad you're having as much fun in 1969 as I am. I hope to post each Monday or Tuesday until it's completed.

He had taken three quick steps before he came to his senses and stopped. Rose had started to run after him but came to a halt when he did.

"Is it-"

"No," he said harshly. "No, Rose, it's not." He shook his head. "We've been seeing them all over town, and we still can't get used to them." He stepped back, angry at his own response.

Rose gazed sadly at the blue police call box across the street. It wasn't the TARDIS, of course. She had watched people go in and out of police boxes, and she still couldn't bring herself to accept that one of them wasn't a time machine. Even the red telephone boxes she saw everywhere made her heart stop for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. If she didn't brace herself in anticipation of seeing them wherever she went, her heart skipped a beat and she would think that it was the TARDIS. Seeing this one unexpectedly had made her hopes rise.

The Doctor shook his head. "It's a normal reaction. I would feel her if it was the TARDIS standing there. Don't worry! We'll get back to her one day."

Was he reassuring her or himself? Rose took his hand and squeezed it. She hated it when he tried to act like nothing was wrong.

"I know we will, Doctor."

"Anyway," he continued, "a spot of adrenaline gets the heart pumping, eh? Still, it was a bit of a shock. I could almost wish the chameleon circuit had gotten stuck in some other disguise."

"Oh, I can't imagine the TARDIS as anything else!" she protested.

He turned his head to smile at her. "Rose Tyler, loyal to the last."

She flushed. "I just like it how it is, that's all."

As they stood there, staring not across the street now but at each other, a taxicab pulled up to the curb and honked its horn.

"Need a lift?" the driver called.

"No, thanks!" the Doctor responded.

"Go on, get in!" the driver urged. "If I can't give a ride to the Doctor and Rose Tyler, I may as well go home!"

Startled, the Doctor glanced at Rose and then leaned down to peer into the car. "Do we know you?"

The driver, a dark-haired man with an earring, laughed as though he'd just heard an uproariously funny joke.

"Maybe, maybe not! We all know the two of you, though! Did us a right turn, you did. Hop in!"

"Alien cab driver," Rose whispered, as if the Doctor needed reminding. He sighed and opened the door for her. She slid in the back, and once the Doctor had settled in beside her the car took off.

"Where to?"

"King's Cross," Rose answered.

"Oh, you're traveling! You don't need to take the train, though. It would be my pleasure to take you as far as you need to go."

"We're headed for Hull," the Doctor put in. "The train would be a bit faster."

"Hull, is it? That's a bit far, even for me. King's Cross it is."

Rose leaned forward. "How do you know who we are? I don't remember ever meeting you?"

The driver snorted. "You didn't meet most of us that day, but we've been primed and prepared." He pulled down the sunshade to show them a picture. It was a snap of them. "Our orders are to help the two of you out wherever we might see you. Free rides for life."

"But that's us!" The Doctor scooted forward to verify that, putting his glasses on. "What are you doing with a picture of us?" he asked in amazement.

"And how did you get it?" Rose persisted. "I don't remember any cameras."

"We have our methods. Nothing for you humans to worry about! This way we all know what you look like. I was glad to have that snap once I saw you. It's an honor to give you a ride wherever you need to go."

They were dropped off at the train station with a cheery goodbye. He even refused a tip.

"We didn't even get his name." Rose watched him drive away.

"All the better. One less name to remember. Come on!"

They entered the train station and found the timetables. The schedule for Hull was straightforward, but Rose was struck with a sudden realization as she looked at the ticket prices. In her eagerness to find Kathy, she had not thought things all the way through.

"Are we sure we should take the train up?" she asked the Doctor.

"What do you mean? We're here!" He waved his arm around, the gesture encompassing the entire station.

"I just meant...maybe there's a better way to get there."

"What, like flying?" He smiled at her. "This is the best option for 1969, Rose. Besides, we couldn't have asked the alien cab driver to drive us all the way to Hull. The train will be much faster."

"Yeah, but the thing is..." Rose's voice trailed off as she stared at the timetable again. Beside her the Doctor smiled faintly. He'd thought this moment would come.

"The thing is what?" he prompted her.

"Well, we don't have enough money for the tickets," Rose had to point out. She was acutely aware of how much money they possessed at all times, and they couldn't afford tickets to get to Hull and back, not if they wanted money left over to live on for the rest of the week.

The Doctor waited, eyes on the train table and a very patient look on his face.

Rose shifted from foot to foot, glancing all around. The Doctor slid his hands in his pockets and hummed a tune under his breath.

The urge to go to Hull warred with what Rose thought was the right thing to do. Rose finally came to terms with her conscience.

"D'you have the psychic paper?"

He smiled and flipped it out from his coat. "Oh, absolutely."

"Well?" she prompted when he didn't move.

"Well what?" he asked, still holding the psychic paper up.

She glared at him. "Well, are you gonna go use it?" She jerked her head toward the ticket window.

"Oh!" He widened his eyes and looked surprised. "Are you sure you want to use it? I don't want to take advantage of anyone."

"Doctor. Go get the tickets."

He grinned at her and swept away.

Rose felt guilty about using the psychic paper to get the train tickets. Perhaps it was because they were so close to her own time and place that it felt wrong. Which was silly, because the Doctor had used the psychic paper countless times all over the universe, and she had never even felt the slightest remorse about it. The sonic screwdriver had been used at so many cash machines and ATMs to get them credits and cash, and she'd always been happy to have something to go shopping with.

Rose assuaged her guilt by buying snacks and magazines to read on the trip. Satisfied, she waited for the Doctor to return from the ticket line.

"Here we are. Two tickets to Hull. Never been to Hull myself. Why would you ever want to go? I hear it's lovely, though. Come on! Our ride leaves in twenty minutes."

"That's good timing."

"Rose Tyler, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's time."

The Doctor led the way onto the train. They found seats together and the Doctor allowed Rose to take the window seat.

"There are all sorts here, aren't there?" Rose marveled. "Look at that girl!"

The girl in question wore a minidress in shades of hot pink and orange. Orange tights covered her legs, and her shoes were a matching color.

"Ah, the swinging sixties," the Doctor murmured.

"I guess I'm so used to the ladies who come to the shop that I hadn't noticed what younger people are wearing." Rose heard the wistful note in her voice. She would love to wear something like that.

"Well, you're still young. You can always rig yourself out in something like that if you want."

Rose's eyes gleamed as she imagined Iris's reaction to an outfit like that. "Maybe I will."

"Your boss doesn't sound as straight-laced as you think she is."

"Well, it's only that she grew up in a very strict family. So far she's avoided all the craziness of the sixties."

The Doctor snorted. "Heaven help her once the seventies come around. There's no going back after that."

"And then there's her." Rose gestured to a woman sitting across the aisle. She wore a powder blue suit, matching pillbox and shoes, and wore white gloves. In her lap was a box-shaped bag. As Rose watched the woman opened the bag to get her ticket. The top opened on hinges and folded back on each side.

"Jackie Kennedy's spirit is alive and well," the Doctor murmured.

"That bag is so cool."

Ten minutes later they were still waiting for the passengers to finish boarding. The Doctor suppressed a sigh of impatience.

"Time was we would have been there by now," Rose whispered as they continued to watch their fellow passengers board.

The Doctor let himself sigh. Any mention of the TARDIS was still painful for him, even though he knew he would get it back eventually. The wait didn't bother him. It was what might happen to Rose that did. If they had to wait decades, what would that do to her?

"But this is fun, too," she continued, interrupting his thoughts. "You and me, exploring all of England, seeing the sights along the way. Like a mini-break!"

"Nothing like seeing a place like the locals."

But seeing the sights along the way didn't make up for a nearly four-hour journey. Rose read magazines and ate some sweets, and the Doctor stared out the window and analyzed his fellow passengers, just in case any of them were dangerous alien beings. He didn't find any, of course, but at least it kept his mind occupied.

Eventually Rose fell asleep, lulled into a nap by the steady motion of the train. She leaned against the Doctor, and he lifted his arm and placed it around her, snuggling her close against his side.

She woke up just as they were pulling in to the station.

"We're here," the Doctor told her. "Right on schedule. Well. Three minutes, twenty seconds late, but no one's complaining."

Rose was hastily shoving magazines and wrappers into her bag. "I'm ready!"

Inside the train station she abandoned him for the loo. She took advantage of the time alone to brush her hair, straighten her dress and apply some lipstick. By the time she came out again, the Doctor was pacing impatiently.

"There you are!" He sounded exasperated. "Always taking forever to powder your nose. Let's go!" He grabbed her hand and headed for the exit, his coat flapping around his legs. Rose had to trot to keep up.

"I wasn't that long," she protested. "You make it sound like I always keep you waiting! And slow down!" she added.

"Well, you do keep me waiting a lot," he pointed out, the very picture of rationality.

"Well, that's nice! When you spend all your time preening in front of the mirror." Rose caught her breath as he slowed down, allowing her to walk at a normal pace.

"The hair products of this time are inferior," he informed her. "They require more time and care."

She scoffed. "Whatever."

He did not deign to reply to this. "Let's get a cab," he said briskly.

Hull was a nice place, Rose decided as they drove through the streets. It was clean and shiny and the people all looked happy.

"Look!" she cried. "Their phone boxes are cream."

"That's right," said their human cab driver. "The rest of the country can have red phone boxes. Here in Hull we have nice cream ones."

"Must be harder to keep them clean," Rose said humorously.

He laughed. "We get a fair bit of vandals, but nothing the coppers can't handle."

"This is the center of the city?" the Doctor asked as they sped through.

"That's right. That's Queens Garden over on the left," their helpful driver informed them. "Nice, eh?"

"Lovely." Rose looked with delight upon the flowers and trees. "What's that tall statue?"

The driver answered without looking. "The Wilberforce Monument."

"What's the monument to? Or for?"

"William Wilberforce," the Doctor supplied. "Abolitionist. He fought against the slave trade for years before it was abolished in England. It was a few more years before slavery itself was outlawed in the Empire, but he'd made a good start."

"Aye, and he was born here in Hull."

Rose wrinkled her nose. It's hard to believe people had to fight to end slavery."

"Aye, well, the right came out in the end," the driver said. "Better for the empire and all."

The Doctor took her hand. "It's all right," he said in a low voice. "It was a long time ago."

Rose smiled and nodded, and he found himself amazed once more at how passionately she took to things. If there was a lost cause or an injustice to be righted, Rose Tyler would find a way.

They were dropped off on a quiet street lined with trees. The Doctor paid the driver with some of his actual cash - Rose let him have an allowance, which he held onto and never used because he unrepentantly used the psychic paper and sonic screwdriver to get whatever he needed - and faced the house.

"Here we are. Number 15."

"I don't think this is a good idea," she said suddenly.

He turned to look at her. "What?"

"Maybe it's not such a good idea. Maybe we shouldn't bother her."

"Rose Tyler! We came all this way! Ruined a perfectly good Saturday, and now you're getting cold feet?"

"Not cold feet. Just...I don't know."

He took her arm. "We're here. Come on."

The Doctor rang the bell on the front door and waited. Rose shifted nervously beside him.

"It's all right," he assured her. "Rose. What is it?"

She shook her head. "I'm just nervous."

He was about to ask what she could possibly have to be nervous about when the door opened. An attractive woman in her seventies smiled at them.

"Hello."

The Doctor plunged in. "Are you Kathy Wainwright?"

The woman smiled politely but in puzzlement. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"I'm the Doctor. This is Rose."

"Hello," she said again.

The Doctor glanced at Rose. "May we, er, come in?"

"What for?" She appeared genuinely curious, not cautious, and Rose's nervousness disappeared.

Rose smiled up at her. "We have something we'd like you to see, but it probably should be in private."

Still looking puzzled, Kathy led them into her home. The first room was a sitting room furnished with a sofa and two chairs, all covered in a cabbage rose pattern.

Kathy gestured to the sofa. "Won't you have a seat?"

"Thanks." Rose sat down, and the Doctor sat beside her. She squeezed his hand, signaling that she was ready. He nodded at her, letting her know to go ahead. This was her mission, and she was in charge.

"Like he said, my name's Rose Tyler. This is the Doctor."

The Doctor raised his hand. "Hello."

"I'm still confused as to what you might want with me."

Rose leaned forward. "Are you here alone here?"

Alarm flashed slightly in Kathy's face. "My husband will be right back. He just went to pick up our granddaughters."

"We're not here to hurt you or anything," Rose hastened to assure her. "We just needed to talk to you without your family about."

"Who are you?"

"We were in London," Rose said carefully. "In 2007. We went to a house called Wester Drumlins and we got sent back in time. To here."

Kathy stared. "Are you having me on?" she said finally.

"The Angels, Kathy." The Doctor spoke quietly. "Those statues of stone angels. Do you remember them?"

She shuddered. "One minute I was alone, the next it was there. Just there. And it touched me, and then I was in Hull." She shook her head. "Sometimes I still don't believe it."

"The same thing happened to us." Rose scooted forward on the sofa. "We're used to traveling in time, but this is the first time we've ever been stuck in one place."

"You're used to what?"

"I'm a time traveler," the Doctor said shortly. "The Angels - that's what they're called - have got hold of my ship. They exist on the potential energy that humans give off, and there's enough energy in my ship to destroy the universe."

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

"It's true!" Rose said urgently. "And we know about you because Sally Sparrow told us."

"Sally!" Kathy started and sat on the edge of her seat. "Have you seen her?" she asked urgently. "Is she all right?"

"We haven't seen her recently," the Doctor allowed. "Or at all, actually. Granted, sometime in the past I must have, because she gave me some papers that explained what happened to her."

"The angels didn't hurt her, did they?" Kathy asked urgently.

"No, no. They didn't. But there was apparently a mystery about what happened to you, and a few others."

"There was a letter," Rose added. "Sally left it for the Doctor. She received it just minutes after you disappeared. It was from you."

Kathy sat very still. "I've often wondered...I've often wondered if I were to live long enough, if I could see her again. Give her a warning."

"You wrote the letter to her and had someone deliver it."

"I did?"

"We shouldn't tell you any more," the Doctor said. "I'm sorry, but too much information about your future timeline could be dangerous."

"But we could show her, couldn't we?" Rose asked him. "Just the pictures?"

He made a careless gesture, and Rose took the letter out of her bag. Rose showed her the photos.

"Why, that's me! And my children."

"You left them for Sally," Rose explained. "So she could see that you'd had a happy life."

Kathy smiled at one of the photos. "My Ben. I can't imagine life without him." She set the photos in her lap and looked at them for a moment before looking up at Rose and the Doctor. "You're trapped here now, aren't you?"

The Doctor coughed and shifted in his seat. "For the time being."

"Time being," she repeated. "There's no way back! How do you get back to the future?" She paused and shook her head. "I can't say that without thinking of the movie."

"Us, too!" Rose grinned. "We have the Doctor's ship. We think there's a way to get it back. Sally left us clues."

"That doesn't sound like Sally. She's more the type to leave a long, detailed explanation with lots of literary references that no one gets."

"Well, all we have is what she left us." The Doctor moved slightly closer to Rose as he spoke. "There are a few things we need to accomplish first, but it looks like it might work."

"And get you back to your proper time?"

"If all goes well." He couldn't look over at Rose, but she reached for his hand.

"It will go well," Rose told Kathy. "The Doctor can do it. He can do anything."

Kathy shook her head and handed the photos back to Rose. "I would have never believed this if it hadn't happened to me."

"Don't you want to keep them?" Rose hesitated to take the photos from her hand.

Kathy smiled. "I have those photos in an album upstairs. I imagine someday I'll take them out and put them in a letter for Sally."

Rose took the photos back, putting them back in her bag.

A rustling of noise coming from the back of the house made Kathy jump. "That's Ben." She stood up, smoothing down her skirt. Rose and the Doctor stood as well.

"Kathy?" a man called from down the hallway. "You home?"

"In here!"

A man in his late seventies walked in, tall and still attractive. His hair was gray and he walked with two little girls.

"Granny!"

Kathy bent down to hug them. "These are our granddaughters," she said. "Maisie and Julie. This is my husband, Ben." She turned to Ben. "These are some friends from London. The Doctor and Rose Tyler."

Ben moved into the room and shook the Doctor's hand. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Tyler." He transferred his hand to Rose. "Mrs. Tyler."

"We're not-" the Doctor began, and Rose pinched his arm.

"Nice to meet you, too," she said to Ben with a smile. "We were in the area and stopped in to say hello."

"Well, welcome. Girls, help me unload the car. I stopped for those groceries, Kath."

"Oh, thank you, dear."

"I'll just, er, help you carry those in." The Doctor followed Ben out of the room.

Kathy and Rose stood together.

"Does he know?" Rose asked. "That you came from 2007?"

Kathy smiled ruefully. "I tried to tell him at first, but he didn't really believe me. Even with my speech and my mannerisms and the strange clothes I was wearing. After a while I stopped trying. It was easier that way."

"Are you happy?" Rose asked quietly. "Are you happy that you were sent back?"

"Well. I don't know that happy is the word I would have used. I was shocked, at first! Mind, my mum and dad were gone, but my brother would worry about me, and that bothered me. But it was an adventure, and I was happy to have the chance to start over." Kathy leaned forward. "I lied about my age, you know. Made myself a fair bit younger, and it was fun." She smiled mischievously. "I don't know what might have happened to me if I hadn't met my husband. First person I saw. He took to me and never let me go." Kathy smiled. "It's been a good life."

"What did you do?" Rose asked curiously. "Once you got here, how did you live?"

"Oh, Ben took me to his farm. His parents let me stay there. I thought about getting a job in the closest town, but it was a different time. Women worked at home. And before I knew it, I'd fallen in love, and that was all right. We stayed on the farm until just a few years ago. Then we moved to town. I've enjoyed every minute of it."

"I don't want to stay here," Rose confided. "It's nice enough, but we don't belong here."

"Well, you have each other. That must make it better."

"It does, it absolutely does. But the Doctor's ship is his home, and without it he's lost. I'm just afraid that I'll get old waiting for it."

"You can't be afraid. As long as you have each other, it will be all right."

"But how do I know that?"

"You don't." Kathy reached over and covered Rose's hand with her own. "That's the one thing I've learned in my life. Sometimes you just have to take a chance."


	17. Chapter 17

They spent the afternoon with Kathy and Ben, at Kathy's insistence.

"It's a lovely Saturday," she said, "and it's a shame for you to waste the entire day traveling."

Rose looked at the Doctor, and the Doctor looked at Rose, and Kathy took their hesitation for assent.

"We'll have tea," she decided, and left them alone to go put the kettle on.

"She's good," the Doctor said admiringly. "Saw us take a moment to think and swept right in."

Rose sat along the edge of her seat. "We're having tea with Kathy."

The Doctor grinned at her. "More than you bargained for?"

"No! Well, yeah. I guess I hadn't thought beyond getting here and seeing her." Rose's voice trailed off as she looked around the room. Now that her nervousness over seeing Kathy had worn off, she was able to take in the details of the room that she hadn't noticed before.

The Doctor followed her gaze, noting the lace curtains and family photographs hanging on the walls.

"Just like a granny's house, is it?" He leaned back along the sofa, ankle propped on his opposite knee and looking for all the world like he planned to stay there indefinitely. Rose supposed that one of the benefits of traveling through time and space was that you came to feel comfortable wherever you were.

An ego the size of a mid-size planet didn't hurt, either.

"It is, kind of. More lacy than my gran's house, though." Rose touched a doily that graced the arm of the sofa. "What is it about doilies? Even those plastic Barbie dolls back at the flat - the ones that were stuck in rolls of toilet paper - they had those weird lacy things for skirts."

"Well, something has to cover the paper."

Rose stared at him. "You know I think they're creepy, right?"

"Yes, I do. Although next time you decide to hide a small army of them, I do wish you'd warn me first. They're not the kind of thing you want to come across unexpectedly."

Rose grinned. "Serves you right. What were you poking around for, anyway?

"Parts for stuff." The Doctor said this with an air of perfect truth, and Rose believed him, because he wasn't they type to rummage through her things when she wasn't home. "And this room is much nicer than anything back in the flat, eh?" He glanced at the lace Rose was worrying between her fingers. "Some people think they're nice. A remnant of a more genteel time. The Victorians used to cover everything in doilies! If not a doily, than a cloth. They thought it was an expression of wealth. Myself, I like a good, clean surface." The Doctor flicked a finger over the doily closest to him. "But I have observed that females of most species tend to have a desire to make whatever they own even more attractive by the application of lace, cloths, or paint. Incidentally," he added, fixing Rose with a stern look, "the Victorians, contrary to popular misconception, did not cover up the legs of their tables or pianos."

Rose stared. "Why would they have wanted to?"

"Legs, Rose. An unpleasant, unsavory part of the body to mention in polite company. It brings all sorts of naught thought into one's head."

Rose had a sudden flash of such a naughty thought. As it involved her, and the Doctor, she firmly tamped it down. "You're having me on."

"It's not true, of course. For some reason, though, people of later generations came to be convinced that the Victorians were that prudish."

Rose thought for a moment. "Having met Queen Victoria, I can't say I blame them."

"No. Not one for much laughter, was she? Not after she lost her husband."

"I have my doubts about whether she was all fun and games before that."

"Here we go!" Kathy came in bearing a tray so large that the Doctor jumped up to take it from her.

"Let me help you with that."

She laughed at him but allowed him to take the tray. "Bless you, I may be old but I can still carry a tea tray!"

He set the tray down on the table. "Sorry. You'd think women's lib would have taught me to let things alone."

"Well, I'm not saying a girl doesn't like to be treated like a lady sometimes." Kathy winked at Rose. "Isn't that right?"

Rose felt a slight blush on her cheeks but nodded. "It's nice, sometimes."

"Ben will be along shortly." Kathy poured out tea into small china cups. "He's getting the girls their lunch. They were out late today at the market, looking for just the right ingredients for Sunday dinner." She glanced conspiratorially at Rose. "One of the benefits of going back in time is that you can train your husband to cook and clean once in a while. I wasn't having an old-fashioned man who expected me to do all the housework!"

Rose helped herself to a small cake. "You'll have to tell me your secret. The Doctor never cleans up."

The Doctor, busy munching, shot Rose a reproachful look.

"What?" she asked. "You don't. Leaves his cereal bowl in the sink all the time," she said to Kathy.

"You have to start right at the beginning," Kathy replied. "Once they get settled into their ways, it's impossible to get them to change. It helps when you get married young, like I did."

Rose hid a smirk behind her napkin. "Then I'm way too late." She glanced at the Doctor, who frowned forbiddingly at her.

"Oh, you're not newlyweds, then?"

The Doctor stopped in mid-chew to gaze at Kathy in mystification. "Why-"

"No, I just meant he's not as young as he looks." Rose gave the Doctor with a kindly glance, somehow managing to imply that he was almost ready for retirement.

"Well, sometimes an older man can be nice, too," Kathy admitted. "I had my fair share of dates, back in London." She glanced behind her, making sure Ben was still in the kitchen. "Not that Ben needs to know.

"Have another biscuit," she urged the Doctor, putting several on his plate. "Are you really a time traveller?"

He had a biscuit in his mouth but managed to swallow it before answering.

"I am. The Angels took my ship and I need to get it back, but that's what we do." He nodded at Rose. "We travel around, having adventures, righting wrongs, doing good deeds."

"You sound like super heroes." Kathy tilted an eyebrow at them.

"Well, nothing so glamorous," the Doctor started, but then Ben came in.

"Tea! Lovely!" Ben sat down beside Kathy, accepting the cup of tea that she handed him. He carefully added some milk and stirred, eyeing the Doctor the whole time. As he sipped the tea he transferred his gaze to Rose.

"You're friends of Kathy's," he stated.

"Er, yes." The Doctor set his plate down. "Well, friends of a friend."

"In London," Rose added.

"Never made it to London." Ben stated this as a simple fact, not a complaint or a boast. "Always imagined it to be a wild place, from what Kathy tells me."

"It, er, can be." The Doctor helped himself to another handful of biscuits.

"So who is this friend of a friend?"

"You remember my best friend, Sally?"

"Of course. You've talked about her for fifty years."

"Well, these are some young friends of hers."

"How is she?" Ben demanded. "Kathy doesn't hear much from her these days. I suppose traveling the world doesn't leave much time for letter writing."

Rose looked at Kathy in time to see a look of guilt cross her face. Had Kathy been faking correspondence all these years?

"She is very busy," Rose said hastily. "But when she found out we'd be in town she insisted that we drop in and see Kathy."

Ben grunted. "Nice of her to do that much."

The little girls began arguing in the kitchen. Ben laid a hand on Kathy's shoulder when she would have gotten up.

"Stay and visit," he told her. "I'll handle the girls."

"You never told him?" the Doctor demanded as soon as Ben was gone.

Kathy shook her head. "Too hard to do."

"And Sally's letters?" Rose asked.

"I would pretend. Or tell him that one had come. He never asked to see a letter. I made her a correspondent for a paper in London. I hated lying to him, but really, what else could I do?"

After tea Ben drove them back to the train station.

"Goodbye!" Rose shook his hand. "It was very nice to meet you."

"You too. Take care on the trip back!"

They watched the car pull away.

"He seems like a nice man," Rose observed. "I can see why she fell in love with him."

"Salt of the earth."

"Do you think he would care if he knew the truth?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Would you care?"

He laughed and took her hand. "Rose Tyler, I'm the one who usually asks a person if they have a problem with time travel."

The ride home was no more eventful than the ride there. Rose, tired of reading her magazines, leaned against the Doctor, trying not to yawn. The evening was cooler, and she shivered a bit. The Doctor took off his coat and covered her lap with it.

She smiled and pulled it up to her chin. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He put his arm back around her, content to sit like that all the way back to London. "Are you happy we came?"

Rose considered. "Yeah, I am. We know that she's all right, and that she's happy."

"Do you consider it a good omen for us?" he asked lightly.

"I do."

He brushed her hair with his lips, so lightly she didn't feel it.

"Me, too."

When they got home the Doctor insisted she go right to bed. He planned to stay up and look over his plans for a device he hoped to build. Rose was so tired, and so eager to take off her dress and shoes, that she said good night without another word and disappeared.

That night she dreamed of her mother. Jackie was on the other side of that vast white wall at Torchwood, and Rose couldn't reach her. No matter how hard she pounded on the wall, Jackie couldn't hear her.

"Mum! Can you hear me?"

"Rose!" It was Jackie's voice, coming from the other side. "Push, Rose! Push!"

Rose pushed and pushed and thought the wall moved. She kept pushing.

"Come on, Rose!" Jackie called. "I miss you! Oh, sweetheart, I miss you!"

"I love you, Mum! Just wait."

"Too late," said Mickey's voice, and the wall vanished, leaving Rose alone.

She woke up crying. "Come back! Come back!"

The Doctor was beside her before she'd fully woken up.

"Rose! Rose, what is it?"

It took a moment for his voice to get through to her. Caught up in that terrible dream, all Rose could see was Torchwood. When she came to her senses, she took a deep, gasping breath.

"Rose?" The Doctor spoke more urgently. "Can you hear me?"

She looked at him through blurry eyes. "My mum."

"Your mum," he repeated. "Are you all right?"

She wiped at her face. "I was dreaming. Just a dream. My mum was there, and I couldn't get to her. And then she vanished." She tried to control her voice but it wavered terribly.

The Doctor sighed. He was sitting beside her on the bed, and he kicked off his trainers.

"I'm sorry."

"It's just all so hard. I can't see her again, and then before I accepted that we were sent back here, and now everything is a mess." The tears came faster and she didn't try to stop them this time.

He let go of her long enough to unbutton his jacket. It joined the trainers on the floor.

"It's not a mess, Rose. We'll work it out. I promise." He loosened his tie, put his arm around her, and gently lowered her back onto the bed. "Get some sleep."

"It was just a dream, right?" She peered at him anxiously in the dark. "I know you helped me get through to Mum before, when we guided her to Norway...could that have been her?"

He wanted to comfort her but he couldn't lie. "No. I was able to help you channel your thoughts to her because the breach was still open a small bit. There's no way Jackie could have reached you. Humans just don't have that ability."

She sighed. "No. I didn't think it was real."

"Why don't you get some sleep now?"

"Kathy didn't have much family to worry about." Rose sat up, disinclined to do what he wanted. "It's one thing if your parents are dead. Mine are living in another universe."

"Come on." He pushed her back. "Go back to sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

"They won't be," she said, sounding like a pouting child.

He smiled gently and kissed her forehead. "I promise you, there's nothing so bad that won't look better in the morning."

She supposed they might be, but she didn't believe him. Still, she settled back in against her pillow. The Doctor pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and leaned the spare pillow against the headboard. This caught Rose's attention and she rolled over to peer at him in the dark room.

"What are you doing? Are you staying here?"

"Just until you fall asleep," he assured her. "If that's all right. I don't want you to have another bad dream."

She smiled faintly. "Thanks. Good night."

"Good night."

After a few minutes he could tell she was falling asleep, but she was moving restlessly. He reached over and took her hand. She stilled as he touched her fingers, and soon was sound asleep.

He lay there for a long time afterwards, staring up at the ceiling. He was the reason she cried for her mother. No matter how much she told him she was happy where she was, the truth was that Jackie was in one universe and Rose was in another, and they would never see each other again. How could he be easy with that on his conscience?

He could only be grateful that the wall had closed before Rose could have fallen into the Void. He would not have been able to survive that. He'd been prepared to see her in the other universe - indeed, he had even tried to send her there without so much as a handshake goodbye - but to know that Rose Tyler was trapped in the Void, in the midst of darkness and nothingness...no, he would not live beyond that. He would not have wanted to go on.

He rarely slept. When he would have gotten up, left Rose alone to sleep, she made a protesting noise in her sleep and turned towards him. He gave up and settled back down, watching her sleep in the dim light. After a while the headboard became too uncomfortable to lean against. He gave up and slid down on the bed until he was lying flat. Turning, he put his arm around Rose.

"Hello," she murmured.

"Hello," he whispered back. "You okay?"

She smiled sleepily. "Now I am." In her sleepy state she cuddled up next to him, resting her head on his chest. The Doctor's heartbeats increased at an alarming pace, but she only wriggled in more closely before falling asleep again.

He was undoubtedly a fool. An idiot. He was tormenting himself for no reason. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair, and didn't care.

Sunday was a better day. The Doctor took Rose through London, exploring places they had never been to before. Rose was sorry to see the weekend end. It was almost like traveling in the TARDIS. New places to explore, new adventures to have, enjoying each other's company.

"The zoo's much better now that we don't have to give dogs and cats to feed the lions," Rose decided as they ate sandwiches in the kitchen late Sunday night.

"It all depends on your point of view, I guess," the Doctor allowed. "Throwing slabs of meat doesn't have the same appeal, though."

Rose shook her head. "I'll take it, thanks."

"Will you be all right tonight?" he asked diffidently. She'd slept soundly enough the night before, and there had been no more bad dreams.

"Of course." She spoke lightly, and meant it. "It takes more than a bad dream to make me afraid of the dark. Good night."

"Good night." After she was gone he left the mess in the kitchen and moved to his new workstation in the living room. His current project was in the beginning stages, and he had some work to do.

Some noises from the bedroom, after he had supposed she had fallen asleep, drew him to the room. She was crying softly, and he hurried to the bed.

"Rose?"

"Sorry." She gulped quickly. "Didn't mean to bother you."

"Now, how could you bother me?" he wanted to know. He sat on the edge of the bed. "You all right?"

"No," she said crossly. "I'm not. I keep dreaming of my mum. That makes me not all right."

"I'll stay with you," he offered. "Just for a bit. If that'll help," he added quickly.

She nodded without looking at him. "It would."

He crawled in beside her, lying on top of the blankets.

"It's normal to miss her," he said quietly. "I know that she was all you had. I...I understand."

"When you put that yellow button over my head and let Pete take me back to his world, I didn't even have to think." Rose spoke softly in the dark room, grateful that he couldn't see her face. "I just came right back to you. I knew I wouldn't see Mum again and I didn't care. Maybe I didn't understand it completely, but I still would choose you over that."

He was touched, and tried to hide it with his words. "I'm a poor substitute for your family, Rose. But I will get you back to your proper time."

"Life as usual, on the TARDIS?"

"Absolutely."

"Running, our lives in peril, danger at every turn?"

"Definitely."

She smiled and closed her eyes, ready to go back to sleep. "I can't wait."


	18. Chapter 18

Rose woke up alone on Monday morning. The Doctor was gone. She hadn't expected him to stay with her overnight. He never slept, and sharing the same bed was the sort of intimacy he never would have stooped to before. Their current situation put their relationship on a level they had never previously explored, and Rose was rather relieved to be on her own.

She padded through the flat but saw no sign of him. She made herself breakfast and straightened up. The kitchen was in exactly the same shape as it was the night before when she'd gone to bed. Rose wasn't even surprised to find it such a mess. The notion of the Doctor actually putting things away and cleaning up was mind-boggling. Housekeeping was the sort of domestic activity that was far beneath him.

She took a quick bath and got ready for work, putting on a blue shirtwaist dress that had tiny white buttons and a white belt that fastened very tight around her waist. Rose longed to wear the blue hip-hugger trousers she'd found in a shop around the corner from work. They were much closer to what she used to wear than dresses or bellbottoms, but they were too casual for work. The Doctor assured her that fashions would begin to loosen up soon, but she suspected that as long as she worked in retail, she would have to dress more formally. Or at least until her own shop began carrying them. Maybe she should talk with Iris.

She delayed going to work as long as she could, but the Doctor didn't return. She wasn't worried about him, but she was a bit surprised that he hadn't left her a note. She had no way of knowing how long he'd been gone, either. Finally she packed up a lunch and headed out. She bumped into Jeff as she walked down the stairs.

"Sorry! I didn't see you." Rose juggled her bag and her lunchbox, trying in vain to keep them from falling.

"No, it was my fault." Jeff handily caught her lunchbox and handed it back to her. "How was your weekend?"

"Good. Yours?"

"Good."

They had continued down the stairs as they spoke. Once in the small foyer they both slowed down.

"What is that?" Rose asked, standing on the last stair.

"I...I don't know." Jeff moved closer to have a look.

A dark red liquid streaked across the wall. Rose was repulsed by it, and she couldn't help the irrational stab of fear she felt as she looked at it.

"It looks like blood." Her voice shook, and again she wondered where the Doctor was.

Jeff looked up and down the hallway. "I don't see any more."

"Do you think it's blood?" Rose persisted.

"It could be," he allowed, and she shivered.

A tall woman dressed in a pink suit strode briskly down the hallway from the first floor flats. She slowed down when she saw them.

"What's going on?"

Jeff gestured to the wall. She looked, took in the stain, and curled her mouth in disgust.

"What's that?"

"We don't know," Jeff replied. "Any ideas, Sandra?"

"It looks like blood." She eyed Jeff as if he were responsible.

"Well, it could be paint or something," Rose said. The woman, who was very pretty, now stared at Rose as though it were Rose's doing. Rose decided that she didn't like this neighbor very much.

Before anyone could decide what the next step should be, the door to the landlady's flat opened. She was holding a sponge and stopped in surprise when she saw the group in the foyer.

"Good morning! Are you holding a tenants' meeting here in the hallway?" She chuckled at her joke,

Jeff shook his head. "Mrs. MacMurray, there's a big stain out here, and-"

"Oh, yes." She shook her head. "I'm afraid that was me."

"What is it?" Sandra asked sharply.

"Why, just some paint, my dear. I've been painting my sitting room. I came out here when I heard a noise, and I was so clumsy - I carried my paintbrush out with me and brushed the walls with it. I've been cleaning it up."

Sandra relaxed. "If that's all it is, you'll excuse me. I'm running late." She threw Jeff a glare as she left the building.

Jeff looked doubtful. "Shall I get that for you, Mrs. MacMurray?"

"Goodness, no! Just because I'm old enough to be your granny doesn't mean I can't do a spot of cleaning!" She brandished the sponge at him. "Off you go!"

Rose smiled at her. "I hope you get the job done."

"Oh, I'm sure I will. Have a good day."

When Rose glanced behind as she left the building, Mrs. MacMurray was carefully wiping up the spill. Jeff was waiting for her. The postman came in as she was going out, and she held the door open for him.

"Good morning, Joe."

"Morning, Rose! Enjoy your day!"

Jeff looked at Rose in amusement as they started down the street. "You know the postman's name?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"I've lived here two years and never knew it."

"That just makes you unfriendly."

He snorted. "Hardly. Can you imagine what a fright of a sitting room that must be?" he continued. "Red! Who has a red room? My mum doesn't believe in anything darker than pink or blue anywhere in the house."

Rose grinned. "Maybe she's trying to liven things up."

"I won't be taking decorating tips from her."

"Jeff," Rose said impulsively. "Have you seen the Do - my - John?"

"Not since we went to the cinema. Did he leave without saying goodbye?"

"Something like that."

"Well, where does he usually hang around? Maybe he's at the library, or the university."

The fact that the Doctor did not frequent those places did not make Rose feel better. The student he was pretending to be might, but he was never one to throw himself into a role.

"It's just a project he's working on. I'm sure he'll be back."

"Well, why wouldn't he come back? You're here." Jeff glanced at his watch. "I'm running behind. See you later."

Rose walked to work, scanning the streets for the Doctor. Things had been going along in the normal fashion between them. And then they had kissed. And then things went back to normal - if normal meant never mentioning the one thing that was staring them both in the face. Rose didn't know if the Doctor regretted his actions, was avoiding the issue because he avoided most serious, emotional issues, or if he'd genuinely forgotten that the kiss had happened.

She didn't know which one would be the worst.

She didn't spot him on the way to work, and she was feeling oddly depressed as she walked into the shop. The mood lasted long enough for her to take in the loud sounds coming from next door.

Rose rang the after-hours bell and waited. After a moment Iris appeared to unlock the door and let her in.

"Good morning, Rose!"

"Good morning!" Rose called back. "What's all this?"

Iris locked the door again and gestured for Rose to follow her into the office.

"Mr. Troy is starting renovations. They're gutting out the shop next door. It should be loud, but not messy."

Rose glanced at the wall. "Are they tearing apart the whole place?"

Iris shrugged. "I'm getting a headache, and I've been here twenty minutes."

Rose put her bags away and listened. "What's he got planned for the shop?"

"He's expanding, but he hasn't told me too much. He wants to carry a men's line, but I don't think we'll have enough room. Maybe we can persuade him to carry more sportswear and casual wear. Then we wouldn't have to hire a man."

"Oh, I'd love some more casual wear!" Rose said enthusiastically.

Iris smiled. "You sound like the weekend help. Most of the clothes here are all stuffy, they say."

"They're not all that bad." Rose glanced around as she spoke. The merchandise wasn't up to the minute trendy, but that was a good thing. Everything was modern but in good taste. She actually thought most of it was cute, but she would never resign herself to polyester.

Although Iris wasn't in polyester, was she? Rose looked more closely at her manager's outfit. As usual, Iris was dressed with the greatest of taste. Nothing too short or trendy for her. The cut of her dress was a simple shirtwaist, like Rose's, but her dress was made of silk and buttoned up all the way to her throat, while Rose had left the top two buttons of her dress undone. Iris filled in the space above her dress with a necklace consisting of multiple strands of pearls, and her dark hair was up in its usual twist.

Rose contrasted Iris with the appearance of the girls who worked in the shop where she'd purchased her hiphuggers and tight t-shirts. Those girls were decked out in minis and knee-high boots.

"They are if you're in high school." Iris glanced at her watch. "I'm going to unlock the doors. Will you count the till for me?"

"Sure."

The morning passed slowly. Rose counted the till to make sure it balanced. She set up new displays, helped customers and hung dresses up from the fitting room. Her attention was only partly on these tasks. She couldn't stop looking at the door, watching for someone who wasn't coming.

"Are you all right?" Iris finally asked. "You've been distracted all day."

Rose shrugged. The shop was empty, and the classical music Iris normally had playing was being overrun by the pop music coming from next door. Whoever was working in the future Helio space needed to play the radio loud enough for the music to be heard over the sound of the tools, and they had a decided taste for pop music.

Iris frowned in annoyance. "That music is such a pain!"

"Don't you like the Beatles?" Rose asked. "Or Elvis?"

"Of course I like them! It's not that I don't like music. It's just so loud. And I don't know what Mr. Troy means to do, so I'm all on edge about it. I hate not being in control of what happens."

Rose smiled. "Sometimes it's better not to know what's going happen."

"Maybe. So are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Rose was silent for a moment and then took a deep breath. "I left without saying goodbye to the Doc- to John. He was gone when I woke up."

"Oh." Iris was silent for a moment. "Did you two have a fight?"

"No! He just wasn't there this morning." Rose thought it sounded foolish as she said it, but she didn't want to confide to Iris how frightened she had been when she'd thought the red paint on the wall could have been blood.

"Maybe he went to class early." Iris thought this sounded plausible, and the subject of just where the Doctor might be was dropped as a tall man entered the store.

He was not a customer, of that Rose was certain. He wore a dark blue work shirt of heavy material and matching trousers. Various tools rode on his belt, and he had work boots on his feet. As she took these details in Rose realized the sound of tools had stopped next door.

"Hello." He smiled at them both as he came into the shop. "Hope we weren't bothering you two much next door."

Rose shook her head and smiled. He was tall and very handsome, and his eyes were blue. They contrasted nicely with his fair hair and tanned skin.

"It was a bit loud," Iris told him. "It's hard to hear the customers with the banging and the songs."

He glanced around the shop, devoid of any customers. "Hard to hear them when they're not here, either," he observed.

Rose bit back a smile. Iris flushed, but whether it was out of embarrassment or anger Rose couldn't tell. She had certainly never heard her manager speak so sharply to anyone before.

"I'm Jim." He held out his hand, leaving Iris no choice but to shake it. "I'm the head carpenter for the project next door. We're expanding into that empty space for your shop."

"Yes, I know," Iris said primly.

"You must be Rose." Jim dropped Iris's hand and smiled at Rose.

"Why must I be Rose?" she asked.

"I was told Rose is pretty and blonde, and Iris is pretty and dark."

"Did Mr. Troy tell you that?" Rose was amazed. The few times she had met her employer he had always been polite but distant.

"Well, maybe I added in the pretty part," Jim allowed. "I came in to say hello. My men and I are leaving for lunch, but we'll be back. I'd like to go over the plans with you this afternoon," he added to Iris. "Per Mr. Troy."

"I'll be happy to," Iris said stiffly.

Jim smiled and left. The door hadn't closed on him before Rose was turning to Iris.

"Iris! What's wrong with you?" She was close to laughing but didn't want to be.

Iris began straightening a rack of dresses. "Nothing's wrong." She pulled a dress off its hanger, shook it violently to remove some wrinkles, and hung it up again.

"You were kind of rude to him, weren't you?"

"I was not." Iris spoke emphatically.

"I've never heard you talk to someone like that."

"Well, I didn't like his attitude."

"What attitude? He was nice! And cute," Rose added wickedly, grinning when she saw Iris blush.

"He's a carpenter."

"So? Doesn't mean he can't be cute, too."

Iris let out her breath. "I'm going to lunch. See you in an hour."

The afternoon was accompanied by sounds of tools again. Rose started to hum along with the Beatles - the crew next door appeared to be playing _Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band_ in its entirety. Iris appeared to be very impatient, but she didn't say anything else about the work going on next door. Rose wondered if something else was bothering her.

Something else was certainly bothering Rose. There was no sign of the Doctor. She might have used her mobile phone if she'd had it with her - thanks to the Doctor's tinkering it worked even in the time before cell phone towers - but he did not have a corresponding phone to answer any call she might make to him. She used the shop's phone once to call the flat, but if he was there he didn't answer.

To take her mind off her frustration with him - drat the man, where WAS he?- she focused on the other issue bothering her.

She missed her mum.

It was as she was in the back office, tallying up the receipts later for an early bank deposit that she had her revelation. As she wrote the date at the top of the bank deposit slip, she paused and stared hard at the year. 1969.

Her mum was alive in 1969. She was alive, and she was in London.

She was perfectly still for a moment, thinking. Then she pulled the telephone directory out of the desk and started turning the pages. She found what she was looking for, carefully wrote it down, and gathered up her bag, the bank deposit, and her jacket.

"Iris? I'll go drop this off now, if that's okay."

Iris was with one of their regular customers, and they both looked over.

"What's that?" Iris called.

Rose sighed, moved closer, and tried to speak over Paul McCartney crooning, _"Lovely Rita, meter-maid."_

"I'll go and do the bank deposit. Be back in half an hour or so."

"All right." Iris turned back to her customer, who was trying on a white suit trimmed with yellow flowers._ "_Sorry, Mrs. Carter. It's just a bit loud here for the next few days."

"Oh, I don't mind." Mrs. Carter smiled. "My sons adore the Beatles. If I don't hear their music each day I start to forget where I am."

Rose stopped at the bank first. She made the deposit, got the receipt, and was back on the street without knowing how she'd managed the entire transaction. Her mind was entirely on the slip of paper in her pocket. Taking it out, she studied the address. She only had half an hour, and she knew she would never have time. Sighing, she stowed the paper back in her pocket and returned to the shop.

Mrs. Carter had gone. Iris was putting away the clothes she had chosen not to buy.

"Need help?" Rose grinned at the sizable pile of dresses.

"Bless her, she's a lovely woman, and she buys most of her things here, but she just can't make up her mind!" Iris was laughing as she made her way through the store with several dresses in her arms. Her view was blocked, so she didn't see Jim the carpenter until she literally bounced off of him.

"Oh!" She caught herself before she fell but dropped the dresses.

"Sorry!" Jim bent down and scooped them up.

"No!" Iris shrieked.

Surprised at her reaction, he let them fall again.

"Iris!" Rose gasped. What had gotten into her?

"Your hands are dirty," Iris said, picking the dresses back up.

"'My hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?'" Rose murmured, and was sorry no one was around to laugh with her. It was hard making _Star Wars_ references if no one else knew what _Star Wars_ was.

"Sorry." Jim didn't look sorry so much as irritated. "I won't try to help you again. Just came by to tell you we're finished for the day. Be sure you lock up. We have our tools and equipment over there. Thieves could break in through this shop to get to them."

Iris glared at him. "I _always_ lock up the shop," she said hotly.

Rose stepped forward, determined to defuse the situation before it came to blows.

"We'll be sure to lock up tight," she assured Jim. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Goodnight, Rose." He threw Iris one more look of mild dislike before leaving.

"What is wrong with you?" Rose demanded. "He's a perfectly nice bloke - a good-looking one, too! - and you're never rude to anyone."

"I don't know." Iris sounded flustered as she finished putting the dresses away. She had a pretty flush on her cheeks and her dark hair had come loose from its knot. "I really don't."

Rose sighed. "Shall I lock up, then?"

"Yes, do. I'm ready to go home."

Rose shook her head. Privately, she thought a shot of a stiff drink would do wonders for loosening Iris up, but she didn't dare suggest they head out to the local pub for a pint. Iris did not do things like that.

She left through the back room after making sure the front door was locked. Iris followed her out, locking the back door securely.

"There!" Iris put her key away. "Definitely locked up."

Rose smiled. "Goodnight."

She walked around to the front of the building. She supposed she might as well get something for dinner, since she was on her own. The anxiety she'd tried to hide all day came out in full force, and she once again worried about where the Doctor might be.

As she stood on the street, worrying and biting her lip, she heard her name being called. Rose looked up and down the street, wondering who it could be, hoping that it was the Doctor.

"Rose Tyler!" Only one person could holler her name so loudly and still make it sound so beautiful. She turned around in a circle and let out a laugh of sheer happiness when she saw him, rushing down the street towards her. He held something in one hand but she didn't bother to look. She simply ran to him and flung herself into his arms.


	19. Chapter 19

The Doctor caught her and held her tight.

"Hello! Everything all right?"

"Is everything-" Rose detached herself from his arms and gave him a good smack on the arm. "No, everything is not all right!"

"Ow!" He rubbed his arm and looked at her reproachfully. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's _wrong_? What's wrong is you were gone this morning and I didn't know where you were! You didn't even leave a note!"

He wavered between indignation at being expected to do such a mundane task and guilt that he had caused her worry. He chose guilt.

"Rose-"

"And don't you dare say that leaving a note is too domestic," she said wrathfully, "because it's only common courtesy!"

"This is about more than a note, isn't it?" He took her arm and drew her into the storefront of her shop, away from the passersby.

"I woke up and you were gone," she tried to explain. "And then there was this red stuff on the stairs, and I thought it might be blood, and I started to worry that something had happened to you, and it was just paint, but I was still worried."

"Oh, Rose. I'm sorry." He was genuinely repentant. "I'm so sorry I worried you. I didn't think."

She sniffed, already annoyed with herself at acting so foolishly. "I know you didn't think. I mean, you're free to do what you want-"

"No. No I'm not. Not now. Not when you depend on me to keep you safe." He raised a hand when she would have said something. "And don't tell me that you're perfectly capable of keeping yourself safe, and me, because I know it. But let me think that I'm responsible for you."

He'd never talked like that before. Lots of complaints about humans and wandering off and being jeopardy-friendly, but he'd never come out and boldly announced that he was the one in charge. Rose didn't know whether to be touched or insulted.

"Just let me think it," the Doctor repeated. "There's nothing you can't do, Rose Tyler, but I promised your mother I'd take care of you."

Rose sighed. "It's okay. Forget it." She looked at the object in his hand. "What is that?"

"Oh!" He held it up and grinned. "This is what I was working on! I've been testing it out today."

"What is it?"

"Well, we have someone from Sally Sparrow's time coming here in two days. Trouble is, I have the date but not the place. Sally couldn't know where he'd land. So I created something that will help us find him." He brandished the object. "I call it a timey-wimey detector."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." He looked wounded. "Don't you think it's a good name?"

To avoid answering that she looked at it more closely. The main frame appeared to be constructed out of a red metal lunch box. There were various bits and bobs assembled around a circular piece of metal, and on the front of the lunchbox was a postcard featuring the rides at Blackpool with the words "Wish You Were Here" on it.

She looked at him in bemusement. "What does it do?"

He beamed at her proudly. "It detects artron energy. Anyone who travels in the Time Vortex-"

"Picks up artron energy," she finished with a nod.

"Rose! You were paying attention!" He gave her a hug, as proud as if she'd just recited the Shadow Proclamation in its entirety in Venusian.

"Well, I do listen to you sometimes." She nodded at the timey-wimey detector. "How does it work?"

"I spent the past few nights working on the design. I was out today testing it. If my theory holds, and it should because it's a very plausible theory-"

"Does it work?" Rose interrupted, knowing that if she didn't she would never find out the answer.

He sighed. "Well, I've spent all of today testing it out."

"And?" she prompted.

He'd taken the detector out into London as soon as he'd finished with it. Rose had still been sleeping, as had most of the city. Hopping on the closest bus, he'd traveled out of London into the neighboring country, where he could work in privacy.

Without any sources of artron energy, it was hard to be precise about the functions of the machine, but he was fairly certain that it would work.

An unfortunate downside was that the energy he'd installed within the device appeared to have a negative effect on chickens. This was all in the name of getting them back home, so perhaps Rose would understand the unfortunate negative effect.

Rose was incredulous. "It does _what_ to hens?"

* * *

Rose gave a decided pass to having dinner. The day had been stressful, and his extremely descriptive explanation of what his timey-wimey detector did to hens did nothing for her appetite.

"Not even for eggs?" the Doctor asked innocently as they walked home, and she fixed him with a stern glare.

"That's not funny. The poor birds!"

He stowed the timey-wimey detector in his pocket. He was wearing his brown suit and long coat again, and Rose wondered briefly how he would ever come to terms with being where they were if he wouldn't change his clothes.

"It was a rather long day, but at least we have a way to find our once and future friend." He glanced down at her. "I'm very sorry I worried you, Rose."

She shook her head. "It wasn't just you. I mean, it was mostly you, because you had me so worried. But it was because of my mother, mostly."

His voice was soft and sympathetic. "Did you have another dream?"

"Yeah. And then I thought, I'm in 1969! She's in 1969! She's here somewhere in London!"

The Doctor looked wary. "But in this time, she's just a child, isn't she?"

"Well, she'd be two or three, and my dad not much older, but she's still here!" Rose dug around in her pocket. "I have the address where my grandparents are living."

The Doctor felt a painful scene coming on. The last time they had gone back in time to see a parent, it had not gone well.

"Rose," he began, but she cut him off.

"I don't want to change anything, Doctor. Not a thing. I just want to see her. I want to know she's still here."

He'd given in when it came to going back in time to save Pete Tyler's life. He'd given in when she'd wanted to find Pete in the parallel world. Why did he bother to ever throw up any opposition to Rose Tyler?

He reached for her lunchbox and tucked it under his arm. "All right. Let's have that address."

* * *

Rose's grandparents didn't live on an estate. They lived in a small house on a quiet street in London.

The Doctor looked around. Their current flat was in a semi-trendy part of London that would get more popular in a few years. This neighborhood was older and farther from the hub of London, but it was respectable.

"Is this where they lived when you were growing up?"

Looking around, Rose slowly shook her head. "No. They lived here when Mum was born, but they moved to a flat when the kids had all left home."

The Doctor vaguely remembered some mentions of aunts and cousins over the past two years, but he hadn't been paying close attention. He tried to make up for it now.

"How many kids did they have?"

Rose seemed pleased that he was asking, and he felt ashamed that he showed so little interest in her life. At the time, anything that he had to show her was by far more exciting than any family relationships she could have bored him with. He'd thought so, anyway.

"Well, there was my mum first. My aunt Lisa, two years later. And then my uncle Roger."

"Yes, Uncle Roger," the Doctor said absently. He was busy looking around.

There was no one around the small house. The Doctor still didn't want to interfere too much, but with Rose not existing in this time yet, there was no fear of crossing her own timeline. As for his...well, he didn't feel his earlier self, which meant that he was in no danger of bringing down the Reapers. Still, he was wary as he turned to Rose.

"Looks like no one's here. I suppose you'll insist on ringing the bell, making up some absurd cover story and force your way inside for tea?"

Rose smiled and shook her head. "Let's just walk around. I haven't been here for years."

"Well, you won't be here for years," he couldn't help pointing out, but he took the hand she held out to him and followed along.

"You know, that's the weirdest thing about time travel." Rose walked along the street, picking her way carefully over the pavement to avoid scratching her white shoes or catching a heel in a crack. "I'm here, right now, with you. But when I'm a kid, I'll be right here. And you say that I can be here now, and be there - then - at the same time."

"Time is complicated," the Doctor agreed. "But you think that's the weirdest thing about time travel? Even weirder than fire-breathing midgets, flying dinosaurs, and meeting yourself as an infant?"

"Well, a few things are weirder," she allowed. She came to a stop. "Oh!"

"What is it?" The Doctor looked all around.

"Look!" Rose raised her free hand and pointed at a playground.

"It's a park," the Doctor stated.

"Yeah. But when I was little, this was a shopping center!" Rose looked all around in amazement. "I can't believe they would get rid of this to put up a few buildings!"

"Humans love progress."

The place that Rose would one day know as a shopping center was now a lovely, if somewhat small, park. Benches ran along the sides, and playground equipment was erected in the middle. There were two slides and some swings and even a small sandbox that was mostly empty. Two old men sat on one of the benches, smoking cigarettes and watching the birds.

"Oh my gosh," Rose whispered.

"What?"

"Look."

"At what?"

"Granny Prentice," Rose said softly. "That's my gran. Right there by the swings."

Rose stared in awe. This stylish, pretty woman was her grandmother? She was wearing a bright green miniskirt and go-go boots, and she had on the best set of false eyelashes Rose had seen yet. She was tall and slender, and Rose was gobsmacked to recognize her.

"That's never your granny!" The Doctor couldn't take his eyes off the minidress.

"Oi!" Rose elbowed him in the side. "That's my granny you're staring at!"

"Well, she's no granny right now!"

"She used to be all wrinkled and grey-haired!" Rose marveled. "And she smoked way too much."

"Well, she's looking fine right now," the Doctor said, and got another elbow in the side for his trouble.

Rose looked from her grandmother to the child she was pushing on the swing. Jackie Prentice was a small child, with light brown hair and large blue eyes, gleefully pumping her legs on the swing.

Rose's heart caught. She had seen that small face in family photos many times. "Mum."

"That's your mum." The Doctor stared. "Amazing. Who would have thought that Jackie would have been such a cute child?"

She ignored him, all her attention focused on the little girl. "I can't believe it. That's my mother!"

The Doctor touched her arm. "Rose, I know that's your mother, but in this time and place she is just a child. It will do you no good to try and have contact with her."

"I don't want contact," she denied. "I just...want to see her."

"Time's up!" Rose's grandmother announced. "Time to go home, love."

Little Jackie instantly began to whine, causing the Doctor to remark, "Ah, that's her, no doubt about it."

"Time for supper, eh?" one of the old men called. "She's been out too late."

Rose's grandmother rolled her eyes as she untangled Jackie from the swing. "She's been a bear today." She took Jackie's hand and started off towards Rose and the Doctor. "Come on, love."

Jackie continued to whine. Her mother ignored her, pausing to light up a cigarette.

"She smoked for years," Rose said softly. "Years and years before she died."

The Doctor looked at the woman more closely. "Rose, how much younger is your mother's next sibling?"

"They're two-" Rose stopped. "She's pregnant!"

Her gran was definitely pregnant. Not far along, but the bump was visible.

"She's smoking!" Rose said indignantly, and would have headed off to stop her grandmother if the Doctor hadn't grabbed her arm.

"Now, Rose. It's common in this time. Telling her to stop would be rude."

"Rude! She's having a baby and she's smoking!" Rose wrenched her arm away from him and walked towards her grandmother.

The Doctor sighed, a familiar feeling coming over him. The feeling of inevitability. The feeling that Rose Tyler was about to rush headlong into something she shouldn't.

"Excuse me!" Rose called. Her grandmother turned around. Rose was even more startled to see how pretty she was close-up. No frown lines, no wrinkles. Her hair was dyed a pale blonde and her eyeshadow was sea green. Rose was amazed that this was the same woman she would grow up with. The gran she had known had already aged.

"Can I help you, love?"

"You're, you're smoking." Rose gestured towards the cigarette.

"Oh, do you want a light?" Her gran started to reach for her bag.

"No! No, I don't. It's just..." Rose faltered. "You're having a baby, aren't you? Smoking isn't good for pregnant women. Or for small children," she added, glancing down at the small girl who would grow up to be her mother.

Rose's grandmother frowned. "Who are you to come and criticize me? I'm having a healthy baby, I am, and I don't need some posh student coming round to tell me how to live."

"No, I'm not a student," Rose protested, but her grandmother had already swept away.

The Doctor sighed and moved up to her, standing shoulder to shoulder as they watched them walk away.

"She's a grand temper, Mrs. Prentice," one of the old men n the bench observed. "Lucky the little one was with her, else she would've let you have it."

"She thought we were students," Rose said numbly. "She called us posh."

"Well, we do look rather nice," the Doctor said cheerfully.

"I always do this, don't I?" Rose wiped away a tear. "I try to fix things but it never works."

The Doctor put his arm around her waist and gently turned her back in the direction of the flat.

"You know that the next baby comes out all right," he assured her. "We can't meddle. You can't do anything that will change the past. It might affect your future."

Rose sighed. "It's not always so much fun, is it? Getting to see the past."

"No," he agreed. "Not always. But we have a lot more to look forward to, don't we?"

She smiled up at him. "Yeah, we do." She let him push her along down the street. Soon she was feeling good enough to take notice of shop windows. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, one that startled him almost as much as it startled her. After a moment she smiled, a slow, shy smile, and blushed. He cleared his throat.

"Shall we go find something to eat? My treat."

"Does 'my treat' mean you're gonna use your alien tech to buy?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll choose the place."


	20. Chapter 20

_London, 2006_

"Got another one for you, Billy!"

"Another what?"

"What do you think? Another bloody car with no driver in sight." DCI Robert Kirwin glared. "That's your specialty, isn't it?"

DI Billy Shipton heaved a huge sigh and stood up from his desk. "Same place?" His voice rose hopefully. Maybe it would be a different part of town.

"Of course it's the same place, you arse! Why would I tell you otherwise? Off you go."

Billy went, pausing only long enough to glare at his DCI.

Fourteen times now had DI Shipton headed to that old house called Wester Drumlins. Most of his visits had ended with his taking control of a vehicle left behind on the grounds. Vehicles all registered to London residents, all left empty. The last one had still been running when he'd arrived.

The other cops had a pool going on what the cause was. Serial killers, aliens, and cults were the most popular theories. Billy only knew that it was an incredible pain in the ass.

He drove over to the property, cursing his luck. When he got there he saw that the usual suspects had arrived before him. Forensics and photographer. Not a single clue had been discovered so far that could tell him what was behind the disappearances.

"What is it today?" he asked, walking over to the group. "Volvo? Ford?"

"Something better, mate." The photographer shook his head. "You have to see it to believe it." He jerked a thumb behind him.

"I hate these guessing games," Billy told him before heading over. He came to a stop. "What the hell is that?"

The photographer snorted and snapped another picture. "It's a police box. They were around in the 1960's. Before your time, eh?"

Billy stared at the blue box. "What's it doing here?"

"Just appeared here."

He tried to open the doors. "What's in here?"

"Don't know." DI Mike Wallace appeared out of nowhere, grinning at Billy. "Another one for your collection, I see."

"This is hardly a car," Billy pointed out. "It's a box."

"Well, it's something." Wallace tried the doors, cursed when they wouldn't budge. He lifted the phone and listened with a hopeful expression. "No dial tone. Doesn't work."

"Did you think it would?" Billy wanted to know. "Hand me something to open the lock."

"I haven't got a key."

"No, but you've a set of lockpicks, don't you?"

"Funny thing, that. What's it doing on the grounds of the house? They were usually put on the streets. Not much use on private property."

Billy was barely listening. He didn't care how the thing had gotten there, only that it was yet another mystery for him to solve.

Not only did the doors not open and the telephone not work, but nothing would unlock the doors, not even Wallace's set of lockpicks.

"We've tried pass keys, picking the lock, nothing. The doors won't open." Wallace shrugged. "Looks like we're stuck. Sorry."

"Well, what am I to do with it?" Billy demanded.

"Take it back with you. Put it with the others." Wallace grinned. "Another piece for your collection."

In the end Billy did just that, sending the blue police box back to the garage with the other vehicles he'd impounded from the property.

"I've got cars, a bicycle, and a moped," he complained to his fellow DIs once he was back at the station. "This is the first time I've gotten a call box."

* * *

Billy was sufficiently curious to do some research. Not very much. He had work, after all, and his mum was always after him to come round for dinner, and he had a number of lady friends who all liked to see him. Still, on his downtime he'd fire up the internet search engine at his desk, curse it for being so bloody slow, and do some research on police boxes.

Comparing the images onscreen to the photos of the one he had down in his "collection", he was puzzled to see that it wasn't exactly the same.

What was going on in that house?

"The phone still doesn't work," DI Wallace pointed out. They were standing in the garage, gazing at the call box as if it might tell them all its secrets.

"Yes, brilliant observation, Mike. Thanks for your help." Billy hunched over, trying to get to the lock. "Appreciate it."

"And if your pictures are right, these windows are too small." Wallace squinted at the computer printout that Billy had handed him.

"You need glasses." Billy continued to mess with the lock, with no success.

"Shut up. I can see just fine."

"Whatever."

"Ordinary Yale lock, but nothing can get in there."

Billy bit back an angry reply. There was nothing to do but forget about the box until something new came up.

His mother called him at work that afternoon. He answered the phone at his desk out of sheer bad luck. Normally she called his mobile, and he was able to answer or not at his whim.

"DI Shipton."

"William! Why haven't I heard from you about tomorrow?"

Billy winced. "Mum. Hello."

"Don't you hello me. You are coming tomorrow, aren't you?"

Of course. His mother's birthday was tomorrow. He'd promised to come round for tea and cake. Billy would not have a problem with this except for the fact that he knew she'd invited yet another daughter of an old friend to come by, as well. He loved his mum, but did she have to be such a mum? Her never ending quest to find him a wife had begun in his early twenties, and continued with unending zeal. He'd get married one day, but he had yet to find the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

In the meantime, he played the field and enjoyed himself enormously, but if he missed his mother's birthday party there would be hell to pay.

"Of course I'll be there," he assured her. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Promise?"

"Promise." The woman was unrelenting.

"All right then," she said, sounding somewhat mollified.

* * *

Over the next year more people went missing, leaving their cars and bikes behind. Whatever the mystery at Wester Drumlins was, the police were unable to figure it out. Billy had almost gotten used to the ribbing his fellow officers gave him every time he got a call about an unattended car. If only the department would authorize a stakeout, he was sure he'd have the problem sorted out in no time.

"You ready for tonight?" Wallace glanced at Billy from over a file folder.

"Tonight?" Billy asked absently as he wrote a report up.

"The thing. Tonight." Wallace waved the file folder around.

"Oh. The thing." Billy finished the report, did a quick check for misspellings, and saved it. "I'm ready."

Wallace's mobile phone went off. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned. "Bloody hell." He stood and walked off, reluctantly answering the mobile as he went.

Billy shook his head and emailed the report to his DCI. One thing off his to-do list. He'd had no idea that so much of police work would be paperwork. He stashed all his unfinished paperwork in a drawer, where it could sit until tomorrow. Glancing at his watch, he decided he had just enough time to get home and -

The ringing telephone interrupted his thoughts of a shower and a change of clothes. The desk sergeant was asking him to come down.

"Is this necessary, sergeant?" Billy asked. "I'm running late."

"You'll want to hear this, sir. It's in regards to Wester Drumlins."

Billy swore to himself and logged off the computer. There'd been no activity at Wester Drumlins for a few months now, and he was happy to keep it that way. He'd make this quick, listen to whatever he had to listen to, and go home. With any luck he would be able to eat something, too.

Jogging down to the front desk, he took the offensive with the young female standing there.

"Hi! DI Billy Shipton. Wester Drumlins, that's mine. Can't talk to you now, got a thing I can't be late for, so if you could just..." He finally got a good look at the young female, and was struck by how young and attractive she was. His voice changed from its official cop tone to a smoother one. "Hello!"

"Hello," the young female said. She had long, wavy hair and a cute little nose, and Billy was fascinated. He abruptly had a change of plans.

He glanced over at the desk. "Eh, Marcie, can you tell them I'm gonna be late for that thing?" He leaned in close to the young female. "Be right back."

When he returned she was still standing there, leaning against the wall and staring out the window at the rain with a slight frown on her face.

"Come with me," Billy said.

"Where are you taking me?" She didn't sound worried, just curious. He found himself warming to her.

"There's something I want you to see."

She didn't say anything else until they began to walk down the street.

"What, all the way down here?"

"Trust me."

"Have you given me reason to trust you, DI Shipton?" she wanted to know, but there was a slight sparkle in her eye.

He laughed.

He led her to the garage where they housed the cars and other items taken not only from the Wester Drumlins property, but from other cases.

"Speaking of Wester Drumlins House. These are all cars that we've collected from that place," he explained. "Left behind with no one around."

She blinked. "All of them?"

"Over the last two years, yeah. They all still have personal items in them, and a couple still had the motor running."

She was very pretty, and he liked her already, but then she turned around and began walking backwards, talking to him all the time. She clearly had a sharp mind, and he was charmed.

"So over the last two years the owners of all these vehicles have driven up to Wester Drumlins House, parked outside and just disappeared." She seemed to be mulling that over when something else caught her eye. "What's that?"

Billy followed her gaze and grinned. "Ah! The pride of the Wester Drumlins collection. We found that there, too. Somebody's idea of a joke, I suppose."

"But what is it? What's a police box?"

Finally, all his research had paid off. "Well, it's a special kind of phone box for policemen," he explained. "They used to have them all over. But this isn't a real one. The phone's just a dummy, and the windows are the wrong size. We can't even get in." Billy tried the door just for old time's sake, but as usual, it didn't budge. "Ordinary Yale lock, but nothing fits. But that's not the big question. See, you're missing the big question." He leaned against the police box and faced her.

She stood with her hands in the pockets of her coat, hair still dripping from the rain outside. "Okay, what's the big question?"

"Will you have a drink with me?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Drink, you, me, now?"

"Aren't you on duty, Detective Inspector Shipton?"

"Nope. Knocked off before I left. Told 'em I had a family crisis."

"Why?"

"Because life is short and you are hot. Drink?"

"No." She turned and walked away, but he knew when a girl was not interested and when a girl was flirting. This one was flirting.

"Ever?"

"Maybe."

Flirting. Definitely. He moved to catch up with her. "Phone number?"

"Moving kind of fast, DI Shipton."

"Billy. I'm off duty."

"Aren't you just!" She pulled a small notebook out and wrote something down.

"Is that your phone number?"

"Just my phone number. Not a promise. Not a guarantee. Not an IOU. Just a phone number."

She had the most adorable dimple. Billy looked down at the slip of paper. "And that's Sally...?"

"Sally Shipton. Sparrow! Sally Sparrow. I'm goign now. Don't look at me."

"I'll phone you!"

"Don't look at me."

"Phone you tomorrow."

"Don't look at me."

"Might even phone you tonight."

"Don't look at me!"

"Definitely gonna phone you, gorgeous girl!"

"You definitely better!"

Billy watched her walk away, a smile on his lips. Sally Sparrow. She was -

His thoughts drew blank as he turned and caught sight of his blue police box. A moment ago it had stood there in the garage, locked up tight and definitely by itself. But now...

Now four stone statues stood there. Three of them surrounded it, their hands covering their faces. And one of them was actually posed at the box, trying to get inside it.

Billy frowned and walked towards them. How the hell did they get there? How did he not see whoever had dropped them off? Yes, he'd been flirting with Sally, but he was still a cop!

He stepped up onto the pallet where the police box was standing. The first statue he looked at had its hands over its eyes. No sign of where it might have come from. He turned from it to examine the second statue. Its hands were over its eyes as well. Billy looked closely at it.

And blinked.


	21. Chapter 21

A huge, intense rush of air. Burning in his lungs. The feeling that all the muscles in his body were squeezing tight. He fell back against a wall, hitting it hard and then sliding to the ground.

"Welcome!" a man's voice said.

Billy looked up, trying to clear his vision. It was dark, and he was quite clearly no longer in the police garage. Walking towards him was a tall skinny man with brown hair, wearing a suit and a long brown coat. He carried a red object in his hand, and it was pointed at Billy. The object had a small wheel that was turning rapidly, and it was making an odd beeping noise. Beside him walked a pretty blonde girl. Billy noted all of this automatically, the way he noted all details. It was how his cop's mind worked, even in the midst of an emergency.

And this definitely seemed like an emergency.

He fought to make his mouth work. "Where am I?"

He couldn't keep his eyes open, but it was the male's voice that answered him. "1969. Not bad as it goes. You've got the moon landing to look forward to."

"Oh, the moon landing's brilliant!" the blonde girl said cheerfully. "We went four times. You'll love it!" She knelt down beside Billy. "I mean, it was ages ago, but it never changes, does it?"

Billy managed to get his eyes open and keep them open. Despite himself, he asked, "Why would it change?"

"It shouldn't," the girl admitted. "That's what's fun about it."

Billy dismissed the nonsensical conversation in favor of more important business. "How did I get here?"

The man switched off the little machine in his hand. The wheel slowly stopped turning. "The same way we did. The touch of an angel. Same one, probably, since you ended up in the same year." He slid down the wall to sit beside Billy. "No, no, no, no, no, don't get up. Time travel without a capsule, nasty." The blonde girl nodded in sympathetic agreement. "Catch your breath, don't go swimming for half an hour."

"I don't. I can't." Billy struggled to process what was happening. He didn't know what angels this man was talking about, even though he had the oddest feeling that he should.

"Fascinating race, the Weeping Angels," the man said conversationally. "The only psychopaths in the universe to kill you nicely. No mess, no fuss, they just zap you into the past and let you live to death. The rest of your life used up and blown away in the blink of an eye. You die in the past, and in the present they consume the energy of all the days you might have had, all your stolen moments. They're creatures of the abstract. They live off potential energy."

Billy stared at him. Not only was this man making no sense, but he appeared to be enjoying himself. He had pale skin and smile lines at the corners of his eyes, but the youthfulness of his face didn't match the expression in his eyes. Another inexplicable thing. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Just nod when he stops for breath," the blonde girl advised. "It's easier that way." Billy stared at her incredulously. Was she serious?

"Tracked you down with this," the man continued. "This is my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff. Also, it can boil an egg at 30 paces, whether you want it to or not, actually, so I've learned to stay away from hens. It's not pretty when they blow."

The girl shook her head. "Trust him on that one."

"I don't understand," Billy said, trying again. "Where am I?"

"1969, like he says," the girl replied. She smiled at Billy. "Hard to believe, but true!" Her expression was one of sympathy, and Billy felt a jolt of alarm at the look in her eyes. She was deadly serious.

The man in the brown suit also had a sympathetic look in his eye that made alarm bells go off in Billy's head. "Normally, I'd offer you a lift home, but somebody nicked my motor. So I need you to take a message to Sally Sparrow. And I'm sorry, Billy, I am very, very sorry. It's gonna take you a while."

* * *

"You are crazy," Billy stated. "Just...just crazy." He managed to pull himself up, though he teetered unsteadily for a moment. The blonde reached out a hand to help him, but he shook her off and stepped back.

"I don't know what sort of joke you're playing, or what drugs you're on, but I'm a _cop_. I wasn't born yesterday."

The mad who called himself a doctor peered at him closely. "No, not yesterday," he agreed. "Sometime around thirty years ago? Thirty years, two months, sixteen days?"

Billy glared at him and strode away. "Stay away from me." He moved quickly, anxious to get the hell away from those two. He began to walk as fast as he could once he hit the street, but the more steps he took, the slower his steps became. He looked around, feeling an incredible sense of disorientation.

Red phone boxes on the street. Across the way was a blue police box. The people...people walked by wearing fancy dress, costumes that made no sense.

And they were all wearing them, everyone he saw, everywhere he looked. Bell-bottomed pants. Shirts with ridiculous patterns, all plaids and circles and bizarre tie-dyes. Men and women both with long hair that swept down their faces, cigarettes everywhere. Like they could have come from 1969. Billy shied away from the thought. He caught sight of a newsstand, and he snatched up a paper. He scanned for the date and swore.

"You gonna buy that, mate?" the newsman asked.

"No. No." Billy let the paper drop. He turned around, trying to ignore the featured story about the upcoming moon landing. He knew where he was, he'd been on this street before. But the shops lining the street were not familiar ones. Old adverts for Coca-Cola, brands of candy that he'd never seen before, out-of-date magazines on the newsstand...

"Here we go!" The Doctor swooped in and grabbed his arm just as Billy began to feel unsteady on his feet. "Come on, Billy. We have a lot of talking to do."

* * *

They brought Billy back to the flat. It was getting late out, and neither Rose nor the Doctor wanted to hang around on the street while they explained what had happened.

"Have a seat." The Doctor gestured to the sofa in the small sitting room and took the most comfortable chair himself.

Rose shot him a reproachful look and sat Billy down.

"What?" the Doctor mouthed at her.

He sat with hands in his pockets and legs spread apart. He hadn't taken his coat off. Rose glared at him and turned to Billy.

"I'm sorry. We're being rude," she said pointedly, even though the Doctor didn't _think_ he'd been rude. "Let me get you some Coke. Good for shock."

She brought back two bottles of Coca-Cola. The Doctor smiled and reached for one of them, but Rose deftly swung it out of his reach, handing one to Billy and then defiantly taking a long swig from the other bottle before pointedly setting it down out of the Doctor's reach.

"What?" the Doctor mouthed again.

"You're being rude," she mouthed back, and he stared at her in outrage.

"How?" he demanded.

Billy had recovered himself. The cold, sweet drink had helped, and he decided to ignore for now the fact that the bottle was made of glass and looked nothing like the bottles of Coke he was accustomed to drinking.

He was able to take in quick details of the flat - small but tidy, except for that table in the corner covered in papers. The furnishings looked like something out of his granny's formal sitting room. Bought decades before and never replaced, preserved for as long as he could remember under plastic to keep it new.

He turned his attention back to people he was with. They were conducting some sort of conversation without making any noise. Gestures were accompanied by exaggerated facial expressions, and he wondered briefly what lunatic asylum they'd come from. Or perhaps it was an acting class.

They seemed to know him. The man was taking off his long coat and loosening his tie. The girl, who Billy hadn't noticed much before, was young and blonde. She wore a close-fitting white blouse and a dark blue skirt that ended just above her knees. It was not an extraordinary outfit, but it looked slightly out of place to him. he had gone out with enough beautiful and fashionable women to recognize that the collar and the buttons on her shirt were dated and just not right somehow. His mind shied away from the thought that this really was 1969.

The girl smiled at him. There was a fresh, flowery scent coming from her, and Billy found himself smiling back almost automatically.

"You're probably having a hard time remembering what we've said. Happens to me sometimes. I'm Rose," she said. "That's the Doctor." She nodded her head to the man, who was sitting with a sulky look on his face.

"Doctor of what?" Billy asked. "You didn't say."

Rose snickered softly. "If I had a nickel every time someone asked that..."

"Oi!" the Doctor said, and Billy nodded in understanding.

"You're not really a doctor. You just call yourself one? Or are you one of those academic types?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said firmly. "That's my name."

"No one's called 'Doctor'," Billy protested.

"I am."

"He is."

Billy have up. Lunatic asylum for sure. Although it would be a shame if this pretty girl - Rose - really was off her rocker. She was really very attractive. In either case, clearly the shock was wearing off. He was feeling more and more like himself. He set his glass bottle of Coke down and moved closer on the sofa to Rose.

"Rose, you said? That's a lovely name."

"Thanks." Rose watched, partly in amusement, partly in alarm, as Billy reached for her hand.

"Right!" The Doctor stood hurriedly and sat down between Rose and Billy. "Let's face facts, DI Shipton." He deftly took Rose's hand from Billy and held on to it himself, resting their joined hands on his thigh. "You have just traveled back in time. An unusual occurrence, but one that you will make work for you."

Billy was annoyed to have his flirting cut off so suddenly, but Rose didn't seem to mind. She snuggled against the Doctor, kicking off her shoes and drawing them up under her.

Understanding came. "Oh. This is your flat?" They both nodded, and Billy shook his head. "You're married. I should have guessed."

Rose blushed slightly and looked, of all things, a bit guilty.

The Doctor only looked puzzled. "Why would you say that?"

"Billy's traveled though time without a capsule," Rose reminded him hastily. "Let him sit quietly for a bit."

Interesting. Maybe they weren't married after all. Married or not, though, the message was clear to Billy: she was off limits.

He set his mind back on the problem at hand. "I'm sorry, but I still don't see how any of this is possible."

The Doctor looked surprised. "Weren't you listening before?"

* * *

Billy shook his head blearily. "It's mad. It's just madness!"

"I know it sounds mad," the Doctor said gently, "but I promise you it's the truth."

Billy looked up from the note the Doctor had handed him. It was from Sally Sparrow, detailing how she had met Billy, how she had left him after seeing the blue police box, and how she had seen him just moments after that.

As he was dying.

"I know it's not easy," Rose began, but Billy raised a hand to cut her off. With his eyes still on the paper, he reached into his pocket and took out Sally's phone number.

"Same handwriting," he said, comparing the two pieces of paper.

"It is from Sally," the Doctor said gently.

"As far as she's concerned, we said goodbye, and then she went to meet me as I lay dying." Billy shook his head. "Do you have anything stronger than Coke?"

It was past midnight when Rose finally put a stop to things. Billy had a quick, intelligent mind, one that the Doctor clearly admired. There was so much information to give, and so many explanations demanded, that the talking went on and on.

"Maybe we should all go to bed," Rose said, staring hard at the Doctor. "We can talk more in the morning."

"What? But we're just getting started!" he protested.

"No, that's okay." Billy managed a smile. "It's a late, and I've been through a lot, eh? Reckon a good night's sleep will help me process things."

The Doctor didn't look as though he agreed, but Rose sent him off to get the extra set of sheets from the bedroom.

"I think I have an extra toothbrush here," Rose said, turning back to their guest. She was alarmed, but not really surprised, to find him sitting with his head in his hands. "Billy?"

"I just remembered," he mumbled through his hands. "My mum's birthday is tomorrow. I won't be there for it. They won't know what's happened to me."

Rose sat down next to him. "I know it's hard, but -"

He was digging through his pockets and came up with his mobile. "I'll just call her. Make my excuses."

"Billy," Rose started, but he looked so determined that she just bit her lip and watched as he dialed. After a long moment he frowned and tried again.

"It's not working."

Rose could have cried for him. "There's no signal. No towers. We won't be able to use that phone for twenty years."

"1992," the Doctor supplied, and was honestly bewildered when Rose threw him an admonishing look and took the sheets from his hands.

Billy threw the phone onto the floor. "What is she going to do? They'll all think I've disappeared. The police will pull out all the stops, looking for me. My family will worry. It'll be in the papers and on the telly, and my little granny will probably die from worry. They'll never see me again. But right after I left, you say that I die. How is that possible? Being in two places at once, now and in the future?"

Rose looked pleadingly at the Doctor.

"Time is complicated, Billy." The Doctor stood with his hands folded across his chest. "Technically, a person can exist in the same moment at two separate times. You've gone back in time and there's no way to get back, but you have a purpose here now. You'll help us get messages to Sally, and you'll have a good life here with another Sally."

"I don't want another Sally. I want my life back." Billy stood up and began walking around the room, almost knocking the empty bottles of Coke off the table. The Doctor stepped forward and rescued them in one hand before they could fall to the carpet.

"I'm sorry," The Doctor was aware that it was an empty sentiment, but he didn't know what else to say.

"If you had your time machine, that blue box, th eone I picked up at Wester Drunlins-."

"The TARDIS. If we had that we wouldn't need you, Billy. It would bring you back to your proper time and place, but it would disrupt our time and place. For whatever reason, we're here and we need you to get us out of it."

"So I'm stuck here and you two get to go back."

"We don't know that that will happen. I'm just trying to follow Sally's notes so we can try."

"All set!" Rose forced a cheery note into her voice and waved at the sofa. "You just need to rest," she said hopefully. "It'll seem better in the morning."

Billy sat on his bed with the air of a man who has just been struck a fatal blow. "Better how?" he demanded. "I just got sent back thirty-eight years in the past! And he says I won't get back." He jerked his head in the Doctor's direction.

"Well, no. But you'll be able to help us get back." Rose tried to smile and didn't quite make it.

Billy cursed softly and lay down.

"Can I get you anything?" Rose asked hopefully.

Billy pulled the blanket over his face.

"Come on, Rose." The Doctor touched Rose's back and urged her down the hallway. He turned off the lights and followed Rose into the bedroom. Without saying anything, he flung himself down on the bed.

"Take off your shoes," Rose said automatically, scooping up her pajamas and going into the bathroom.

The Doctor rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He also took off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the floor. He hadn't used to get so comfortable - or so undressed - but things had changed slightly in the past few weeks.

He glanced around the bedroom while he waited for Rose to return. He'd been in and out of it before, of course, usually when Rose was at work. His clothes were in the wardrobe, but he preferred to shower and dress after she'd gone to work, when he was alone in the flat.

The room was small, especially by his standards. The walls were painted the same soft white as the rest of the flat. They were surprisingly clean and bright. He would have changed the color to something else, himself, but since this was a human dwelling and not a TARDIS that could change its surroundings at his whim, he simply accepted the color without noticing it much.

The wardrobe doors hung open, showing Rose's dresses and tops and skirts. He was amused by the contrast between the demure things she wore to work and the swinging sixties style items Rose was showing a liking for. The contrast between these clothes and the clothes she used to wear was even more striking. No more jeans and hooded tops for Rose. She didn't seem to mind, but he wondered what she would say if she was forced to remain in this time for very much longer.

Across the small bureau were scattered bits of the jewelry Rose liked to wear. All costume, of course. Even if he could have found a way to get her real gold and gemstones without breaking her rule of using properly earned money, she wouldn't have accepted them. The small charms he had given her were the only exceptions. He hadn't seen her take them off once.

Rose returned wearing pale green pajamas. The top had short sleeves and was edged in lace, and after a quick glance the Doctor resolutely looked away. The material was light, and her shape, backlit by the lamplight, was clearly outlined.

Rose closed the door and quirked an eyebrow at him. "You're still here?"

"Where else would I go? Billy's crashed on the sofa, and there aren't any other rooms in the flat." The Doctor spoke quite reasonably.

"I thought you, I dunno, went out and took in the city at night."

He snorted. "London in the 1960's? Not as exciting as you might think. Now, if you want to talk exciting, head over to Zebulon Five Mark Six during the twenty-seventh century revival of traditional musicals. Non-stop dancing in the streets, widespread partying all night long, long streams of comets appearing naturally in the sky at the precise moment of-"

"Shove over." Rose snatched the blanket off the bed and climbed in. "So are you staying or going?" she demanded.

"You'd send me out into the big, bad world at this hour?" He feigned sadness and disappointment.

"You don't need sleep," she pointed out. "I do."

"I sleep on occasion. Once in a while. Not as often as you humans, of course-"

"Suit yourself, but a girl's got to have her beauty sleep." Rose turned over and snuggled down, hiding her smile from him.

"Do I need to get the light, too?" he asked after a moment.

"Yup," was her unequivocal answer.

He sighed, but since he used his sonic screwdriver to turn the light off without moving from the bed, she didn't feel too bad for him.

They lay in the dark without moving for long minutes before Rose broke the silence.

"I don't think he's taking it too well."

"Would you? Thrust back into time?"

"I _was_," she reminded him.

"Yes, but you have something most people in that position don't have."

"What's that?"

"Me."

She rolled over to face him, even though she couldn't see much in the dark besides a light-colored blur where his shirt was.

"You. You're all that stands between me and Billy?"

"I'm not standing between anyone and anything," he corrected her. "But I'm here, and with me here nothing can go wrong."

"Oh, where have I heard that before?" Rose inquired of the ceiling.

"Billy won't have me around for the rest of his life. He'll have to make a go of things on his own. You'll have me and my expertise until we can get back."

"What if we can't get back?" Rose asked.

"Rose Tyler, are you doubting me?" he asked indignantly.

"Not doubting you, no. But...what if this doesn't work?"

"We have Sally Sparrow's word that it will."

"She tells us how it will end, so it's bound to end well?" she countered skeptically. "Doesn't sound like much of a plan to me."

"Funny how these timey-wimey things never do." The Doctor stretched out on the bed, stacking his hands behind his head. "Still. You may have a point about Billy. I'll just have a talk with him in the morning. Once he's well-rested it'll all seem more manageable."

Rose didn't think so - it didn't seem that manageable to _her_ - but she let it go.

"Doctor," she said instead.

"Mmm?"

"I'm scared."

He turned to her immediately, reaching a hand out in the dark to touch her arm reassuringly.

"Rose, you don't need to be afraid. I'm here."

His blind belief - deserved or not - that he could protect her from the evils of the world made her chuckle.

"You can't chase the monsters away, Doctor, can you?" Her voice changed and became more serious. "I'm afraid that we'll be trapped here."

He couldn't ignore the fear in her voice. "Come here."

She scooted closer to him. The bed was so narrow it only took a few inches to reach him. Without prompting she put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, breathing in the clean scent he always carried with him.

He hugged her close, smoothing her hair with his hand. "It'll be all right," he said in the dark.

Rose shut her eyes tightly and let him stroke her hair. The situation was so much more intimate than anything previous in their relationship. They'd always observed certain boundaries when on the TARDIS - he may have entered her bedroom but he never stayed long, and never when she was in bed. This enforced closeness was making them do things they never would have done otherwise.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Rose slowly pulled away, just enough to be able to face him.

"Doctor."

"Rose?"

"I trust you. I know you'll keep me safe."

He was touched, so incredibly touched. She kept putting her life and her faith in his hands, and that never failed to amaze him.

"Thank you," he started to say, but she cut him off when she kissed him. Just a slight touch of her lips to his, but it shut him up more effectively than any villain pointing a weapon at him could ever have hoped to do.

She had meant it to be just a simple kiss of affection, not wanting him to think that she was being pushy. He'd pulled away from her too often when things were getting too intimate between them for her to read too much into his actions or to try too hard. She'd gotten used to denying her feelings, especially after falling back in time.

The habit of waiting and waiting for him to make the first move, was too strong. Rose tried to pull away, shocked at her own actions, but he wouldn't let her. To her amazement he drew her back to him.

The Doctor made it much more than a simple kiss. His arms tightened around her, his hand cupping the back of her head to keep it firmly in place. His mouth moved on hers and Rose let herself get carried away.

"What are you doing?" she whispered when she had to stop for breath. "You don't do this."

"Apparently I do." He wasn't breathing hard, and he was looking at her in some bemusement. "With you I apparently do."

"I'm glad," she told him, and kissed him again.

A pounding somewhere outside made them break apart again.

"What was that?" the Doctor asked, listening hard.

"Dunno." Rose didn't really care, either, but there was the pounding again, so she stayed quiet.

The pounding continued, this time accompanied by some unintelligible yells.

"I'll better go see what it is." The Doctor was already sliding out of bed and looking for his shoes.

"Now?" Rose protested. "It's probably someone locked out of their flat."

"Let me just go look," he pleaded, buttoning his jacket up. "I'll be right back." He smiled at her. "Right back."

"Then I'll come, too," she decided, and he shook his head.

"No time. You're not dressed. Be right back!"

Rose fell back against her pillow as the door to the flat opened and closed. Was he really concerned about that noise, or was this just another classic Doctor way of avoiding intimacy?


	22. Chapter 22

The Doctor tried to slip quietly out of the flat, but despite his perception of being an incredibly quiet, sneaky sort of person, he was clearly no match for DI Billy Shipton.

"What's going on?" Billy asked, sitting up on the sofa.

The Doctor paused by the door. "Nothing. Nothing's going on. All is well. Right as rain."

Billy snorted and stood up, feeling around on the floor for his shoes.

"Tell me another one. Where are you headed? Was that knocking?"

The Doctor stood still in surprise. "You heard it too?"

"I'm a trained professional," Billy reminded him. "Should we check it out?"

"What are you two doing out here?" Rose snapped the light on, making both men flinch. She'd put a robe on over her pajamas and slipped on a pair of flats.

"Rose, I'll handle this. You can go back to bed." The Doctor was striving for a calm tone, one that said that he was in control and she didn't have to worry.

He should have known better. "Well, let's go then," she said, tying the sash to her robe. "The knocking's still going on."

The Doctor sighed heavily and gestured for her to lead the way.

"Are you always dressed?" Billy asked as he followed Rose out the door. "Do you sleep in your clothes?"

"Do I..." The Doctor looked down at his jacket and trousers. "Never mind," he snapped, hurrying to catch up with Rose.

"Rose! Wait for me!"

Rose was already at the foot of the stairs, directly across from the landlady's flat. Farther down the hall and to the right was the hallway that led to the six ground floor flats. She pointed down the hall.

Someone was pounding on a door, demanding in a loud, intoxicated voice to be let in.

"You know this guy?" Billy asked.

"No." The Doctor peered down the hall and shook his head.

"Let me handle this." Billy sounded almost amused, and indeed he was glad to be doing something so normal and familiar. He walked down the hallway, stopping a few feet away. "You all right, mate?"

The man glanced over. "I'm locked out!"

Rose thought she recognized the voice. Moving closer, she made out dark skin in the dim light.

"I know you, don't I?" she asked, keeping her voice quiet - it WAS past midnight. "Isaac, isn't it?"

"Is it?" the Doctor murmured behind her. He'd never seen the man before. Trust Rose to have met most of the neighbors.

The man stopped pounding on the door and squinted at Rose. "I know you!" He sounded absolutely delighted. "The little bird that lives upstairs with the skinny bloke. What are you up to this fine evening?"

Billy and the Doctor both rolled their eyes. Rose smiled.

"I was asleep until you started pounding on the door. Do you need a hand?"

Isaac gestured to the door. "My key won't open!" He sounded insulted that his door would play such a trick.

Billy suppressed a sigh of annoyance. The man was clearly drunk, and possibly stoned. "Hand over your key, mate. Let's have a look."

Isaac handed over his key, apparently content to let someone else do his dirty work. He looked back at Rose, looked away, and then zeroed back in on her as he noticed her attire.

"Hey, I like your nightie," he said, and the Doctor fixed him with a narrow glare and stepped closer to Rose.

"Is this your flat?" Rose ignored the question about her nightie but was secretly pleased by the Doctor's reaction.

"It is. Number twelve, that's mine." Isaac nodded and rocked back on his heels. The careless effect was ruined when he lost his balance. Billy reached out and steadied him.

"Number twelve, eh?" Billy held up the key. "This yours?"

"'Course it is!"

"Then I've solved your problem. You live in number twelve. This door is number ten."

Three pairs of eyes turned to the door and read the number in the dim light.

"Number ten," Isaac whispered in awe. "You're a genius. Thanks."

Billy unlocked the door to number twelve, shoved Isaac in, and tossed the keys in after him.

"Lock the door," he ordered. "And go to bed. Don't drink so much."

"Thanks. Good night, miss!"

Isaac's voice was cut off as Billy closed the door. "Lock it!" Billy snapped, and soon the sound of a lock engaging was heard.

"1969," the Doctor said cheerfully. "A time of free love, drinking, and crazy disco music. And perhaps some recreational drug use," he added. "Maybe more than some, given Isaac's condition."

Billy stared at him. "That's your assessment?"

"Given the symptoms, yes."

"That's all you have to say. We're here in the wrong time, and you're taking notes?"

"That's what I do." The Doctor sounded almost surprised that Billy would question his actions. "Travel through time, see what people are doing."

"Not a good time for the through space and time speech," Rose whispered.

Billy stared at them both, shook his head, and brushed past them, knocking Rose off balance and into the Doctor.

"I'm going to bed."

"Probably not a bad idea," the Doctor allowed. "Come on."

They followed Billy back up to the flat, but the Doctor stopped Rose when she would have gone to speak with him. He led her to the bedroom instead.

"He'll be all right. Let him be alone."

"He's still so upset." She looked up at him, concern in her eyes.

He smiled at her. His Rose Tyler, always worried about someone else. "All he needs is some sleep and things will look better in the morning."

Rose pulled the edges of her robe together. "You're probably right. I guess I'll go back to bed now, too."

"Yes. Bed. That sounds good. For you, I mean," he added hastily. "Not me. I'm not tired." His voice trailed off.

An awkward silence ensued, where they both looked everywhere but at each other. After a long, long moment, they both ended up speaking at once.

"G'night."

"I'll keep watch tonight."

Rose nodded and watched him walk out of the room. He hesitated at the door and turned around.

"Good night, Rose."

The awkward feeling between them disappeared. She smiled. A simple good night from him was better than a passionate declaration from anyone else. "Good night."

* * *

Billy woke up slowly, feeling confused and disoriented but not hung-over. It was an odd sensation. Feeling hung-over was familiar enough that he should recognize it, even though he hadn't had too much to drink in a long time. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, wondering why he wasn't in his bed. As he looked around he saw that he wasn't even home.

What had he done last night?

"Good morning!" a man's voice said cheerfully.

Billy turned to his right, so startled that he almost fell off the couch. Sitting across from him was a man in a brown suit. He looked familiar to Billy, but his mind wouldn't allow him to make the connection.

"Who are you?"

The man sighed and looked disappointed. "Don't you remember me?"

"Remember you? I don't know you."

The man leaned back in his chair. "A lingering side effect from time traveling without a capsule. Temporary memory loss. Nothing serious, luckily. You'll be back to yourself in a few minutes." He smiled at Billy.

Billy swung his feet onto the floor. "What the hell are you talking about? Where are we?"

"We're in a flat in London in the year 1969." His voice was serious, and Billy shook his head.

"Mate, I'm a cop. You don't want to mess with me."

The man leaned forward. "I'm the Doctor. We met yesterday. Think back, Billy. Remember the police station. Sally Sparrow was there. The blue police box. You saw a stone statue there by the box, and then you got sent back in time."

Billy groped for his shoes and stood up. "I don't want to arrest you. So why don't you tell me where I am and how I got here before you're in even more trouble."

The man in the brown suit sat where he was, his expression unchanging. Billy was just drawing breath to issue a stinging order when a woman spoke from behind him.

"Good morning!"

Turning quickly on his heel, Billy took in a young blonde woman in green pajamas. She smiled at him, and in that instant all of yesterday came rushing back.

Billy staggered backwards, colliding with the Doctor. The Doctor grabbed him by the arms.

"Easy now! Temporary memory loss at an end, I see." He lowered Billy onto a chair and stood back, hands in his pockets.

"Are you all right?" Rose hovered anxiously over Billy, and the heart and key charms she wore hit him on the head. "Sorry." She stepped back and tucked her necklace back under her pajama top, eyes still on Billy. "Do you want some water?"

"He's fine." The Doctor had his eyes on Billy as well, evaluating his condition. "His memories have come back."

"What memories?" Rose asked in confusion.

Billy sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "For a moment, just a moment, I'd forgotten that I was trapped in 1969 with a girl from 2007 and an alien."

"You still don't believe us, do you?" Rose was watching him with her head tilted to one side.

"Not really, no." Even as he spoke the words Billy knew it was a lie. Something was wrong, something was off, and he knew it.

"Well, I know one way to solve that." Rose walked over to the television set and switched it on. "Black and white," she explained, gesturing to the wavy screen and the rabbit ear antenna. "Color TV's been invented, but this set is an old one, and not all channels air in color."

"Give it to the end of the year," the Doctor said. "Billy?"

Billy didn't hear them. The morning news was on, and he was engrossed in the images on the screen. Rose glanced at him and then at the Doctor.

"I'm going to get dressed. Don't shock him with unnecessary information too soon."

"Why would I do that?" the Doctor protested.

"When don't you?" she asked as she walked away.

It wasn't very long after that before Billy stood up on shaky legs and turned the television off.

The Doctor was still watching him closely. "Are you ready to talk?"

Billy looked around the small kitchen. It was clean and tidy and not unpleasant to sit in, even with the small table and rickety chairs. The Doctor was at the coffee maker, making clicking sounds as he tried to get the machine to work.

"This model was obsolete before it even came to market," the Doctor complained. "What I wouldn't give for the Ruatte Coffee Maker. It roasts the beans, grinds them and brews the coffee, all in under three minutes." He took a cylindrical object out of his pocket. "It won't be invented for another 87 years, but it's something to look forward to." He aimed his tool at the coffee maker. There was an odd buzzing sound and a faint blue light. The coffee maker gave a lurch and started to filter water.

"There we are," the Doctor said in satisfaction. "We won't wait for Rose," he added as he poured two cups. "She takes forever in the shower." He handed one to Billy and sat down across form his guest at the small table. "Now. To address what you were saying." He fixed Billy with a stern look from over his cup. "How can I be a fraud and a non-alien when you've landed here? Clearly you weren't sent back in time by accident. The Weeping Angels are alien beings."

"Just like you." Billy took a long sip of the coffee. The taste made him long for Starbucks.

"Well, I'm no Weeping Angel. I'm a Time Lord."

Billy set his cup down. "A Time Lord."

"I'm the last of my kind, from a planet far away from here. The TARDIS - my blue box - was my ship. It's how we traveled back and forth through time."

"'We'?"

"Me and Rose."

Billy glanced down the hallway. "Is she an alien, too?"

"Oh, no. She's a human. Met her in London last year. We've been traveling together ever since." The Doctor sipped his coffee, made a face, and pushed his mug away.

"Just like that? Where's her family?"

The Doctor flinched. It was quick and slight, but Billy caught it.

"Did you kidnap her?" he demanded.

The Doctor laughed. "Are you kidding? Who could hang on to Rose if she didn't want to be held? She's here of her own free will. Even when I tried to send her home she just came back. Couldn't get rid of her of I tried."

"And her family?" Billy pressed.

"Something happened," the Doctor said shortly. "A while ago for us, but not yet in your own timeline, apparently. A disaster, if you will, in London. Many people were lost."

"Her family?" Billy guessed.

"No. Her mother was spared but she was taken someplace else, far far away. She's safe now, but Rose isn't able to see her. Wasn't able to," the Doctor amended, "back when we had the TARDIS."

Rose appeared in the doorway, dressed in a red t-shirt and the most incredible pair if trousers Billy had ever seen. Dark blue, they were covered in large red and yellow flowers. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Hello," Rose said simply. "How are you?"

"Your trousers." Billy waved a hand toward them, and Rose grinned.

"Aren't they cool? They're not bell-bottoms, they're just flared." She stuck out a foot to show him. The fabric fell away in a slight flare, revealing a plain white trainer. "Some of the fashions here are fun."

They looked rather terrible to Billy, and he glanced at the Doctor for support. The Doctor was busy staring at Rose with a fond, slightly goofy smile on his face. Clearly he had no trouble with Rose's outfit.

If the truth were told, the Doctor rarely noticed Rose's clothing. She always looked beautiful to him, no matter what she was wearing, and so he was accustomed to thinking her lovely in anything she chose to put on. Today he thought only that the flowers were as cheery as Rose herself was.

"How did you like the news?" Rose sat down beside the Doctor and took a sip of his coffee.

"It was...amazing." Billy chose his words carefully. "This time and place...it's so different from where I came from."

"It's very, very different," the Doctor agreed. "You have to live in it now, and it won't always be easy. It's very hard for women and minorities in England. It will be difficult for you to get your credentials and enter the police field again, but it shouldn't be impossible."

Billy shook his head. "That's the farthest thing from my mind right now. I know it will be hard for me. I'm not afraid of that. Well, not too much afraid," he amended.

"Things do get better," Rose put in. "You know they'll get better."

Billy stared down at the table. Rose glanced at the Doctor. The Doctor appeared unconcerned. Eventually Billy looked up again.

"You said something last night about my part in getting you back home. What do I have to do?"

The Doctor beamed at him. "Billy Shipton, I've been waiting for you to say that."


	23. Chapter 23

It had been a long day. Rose found herself stuck with all the drudgery - cleaning, shopping, cooking - while the Doctor sat with Billy and brainstormed ideas. She had never come so close to giving the Doctor a good smack as she had that night, when she had thrust a glass of water at him. He had been talking nearly non-stop for several hours, an amazing feat even for him, and his voice had started to crack. He'd taken the glass without looking at her, drained it dry, and handed it back to her while still talking to Billy and tracing a diagram of something on a piece of paper.

Rose threw the glass at him - lightly - and left the flat, slamming the door in time to hear him say, "Ow!"

"What's wrong with you?" Jeff asked as she stormed by his door.

"Go to hell," she tossed over her shoulder, and kept going.

"Oh, ho!" He closed his door and followed her, nimbly tripping down the steps. "You and the mister have a fight?"

Rose glared at him. "The trouble is, I forgot that he's a man. And men are stupid."

"Preaching to the choir there, love." Jeff folded his arms and surveyed the street they were standing on. "You look a bit steamed. Fancy a drink to help you calm down?"

Rose suddenly remembered where she was. Thankfully, she had her shoes on, and her clothes were clean, but her bag was back in the flat.

"I don't have any money. My bag's inside."

"You were that mad, eh?" Jeff shook his head. "I'm buying."

Rose hesitated only for a moment. "Okay."

The pub was full of people. Saturday meant a night out for many, and Rose was only sorry that she'd waited so long and spent the day doing all the boring domestic stuff instead of relaxing.

"So what's going on?" Jeff asked after they'd grabbed a small table and he'd brought back drinks for both of them. "It's not like you to be so angry. Every time I see the two of you, it's happiness and sunshine."

Rose frowned and bit her lip. Her anger had largely disappeared, but she was still upset at being taken for granted. Maybe that's what doing domestic really did to a person. Maybe that was why the Doctor tried so hard to avoid it.

"The Doctor's working on a project," she said finally. "With...a colleague. And they sort of forgot that I was there."

"My dad used to get that way," Jeff said sympathetically. "He loved his work. He had his own company," he explained when Rose looked puzzled. "Could never leave work at the office. Drove my mum mad."

"The Doctor's not always like this." Rose felt the need to defend him. "This is really important. Really, really important - to both of us. There's just so much to do."

"A lot of details." Jeff nodded, probably picturing some sort of scientific experiment being conducted in the middle of the flat. For a moment, Rose envied him his lack of knowledge. She wondered what his reaction would be if she explained to him what was really going on.

"The trouble with this project is that it's too much, too soon." Rose tossed back the last of her drink, a harmless glass of ale that tasted awful. It suited her current mood perfectly. "There are so many things to be worked out that I don't see how it can all get done."

"Yeah, but if he's got that friend of yours to help out it shouldn't be a problem, right?" Jeff righted the chips basket that Rose had dislodged as she set her glass down. "He a scientist, too?"

"Well, the Doctor's the brains of the whole thing," she admitted. "Billy and I are just...accessories."

"You're more than that," Jeff protested.

"But I'm not. Not really. The Doctor's the one who makes the decisions and comes up with all the brilliant ideas. I'm just the, the sidekick."

"That's an odd way for you to describe yourself." Jeff smiled a puzzled smile. "Isn't marriage supposed to be a partnership?"

A girl's voice interrupted, saving Rose from having to answer. "What's supposed to be a partnership?"

Jeff and Rose turned to see Kitty standing there. She was dressed in a slinky black dress, very high heels, and full makeup. She smiled at Jeff.

"Hi, there."

He stood up so fast that he knocked his chair back. "Hi. What are you doing here?"

"Stopped by with some friends before dinner." She smiled again. "Is there room for me for a quick drink?"

"Absolutely." Jeff beamed at her. Rose shrugged indifferently, but neither one paid any attention to her.

"I'll just go tell my friends I'll be over here for a bit. Watch my bag?" Kitty set down her bag and disappeared back into the throng of people surrounding the bar.

"You don't mind, do you, Rose?" Jeff asked belatedly. Seeing Kitty had made him forget his manners.

Rose shook her head. "Of course not. Glad she's talking to you."

"She's still driving me crazy," he confessed. "She won't return my phone calls, won't agree to come out with me again, but when we bump into each other she's friendly and encouraging. I'm starting to think she's leading me on. What is it with you women?"

"Maybe she just doesn't want to be so accommodating," Rose suggested. "Maybe she knows you'll take her for granted."

"Are you projecting, by any chance?" he wanted to know. "Look, Rose, I know that John - and one day you'll have to tell me why you call him 'the Doctor', it's like an old movie where the woman always calls her husband by his surname - thinks the world of you. You're not just an accessory. It's ridiculous."

"But I'm not really doing anything." Rose leaned forward, shoving the basket of chips out of her way. "He doesn't need me, he can do it all himself. He's been by himself for years and years. What if he looks at me one day and decides that he's tired of me? What if this doesn't work and there's no way home? What do I do then?"

"You go home, Rose," Jeff said gently. "With him. It's where you belong."

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice demanded.

Startled, Rose looked up and around. The Doctor stood over her, arms folded and mouth set in a line. On his temple was a red mark, a souvenir of the glass that she'd thrown at him. Despite herself Rose giggled.

"What happened to your head?" Jeff wanted to know, and the Doctor fixed him with a glare.

"It connected with a water glass." He spoke through clenched teeth. "Rose?"

She stayed put, ignoring the implied request to go with him. "Yeah?"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't throw things at me and then leave."

"Would you rather I threw things at you and stayed?" she suggested.

"You know that's not what I meant!" he snapped.

"Should I have stayed to clean up the mess?" she asked sweetly.

The Doctor stared at her, anger rising visibly. Before he could open his mouth, Jeff interrupted.

"Sorry, that's my fault. Ran into her out on the street and insisted she keep me company. But Kitty's here now, and she's feeling friendly, so I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?"

He picked up Kitty's bag and left. Rose and the Doctor continued to stare at one another.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked finally, rubbing the back of his neck and taking in the glasses on the table.

"Maybe." Her tone was belligerent, and she folded her arms across her chest, daring him to object.

She was disappointed when he didn't take the bait and reprimand her for drinking. He sighed. "Will you come home with me?"

She thought for a minute, eyes on the ceiling. "No."

"No? _No_?" His voice rose in outraged confusion. "Why not?"

"Because you were ignoring me."

He stared at her in open-mouthed confusion. "How was I ignoring you?"

"You and Billy were busy. All day. I did the cleaning and the shopping and laundry - _your_ laundry that you won't even wear because you won't take off that stupid suit - and you just sat around and drew pictures all day."

He shook his head to clear it. "I never asked you to do all those things," he pointed out. "You chose to."

"If I don't do them, they don't get done!" she said angrily.

"It was your choice!" His voice raised in anger, and several people turned around to look at them. He scowled at the onlookers until they turned away again and then looked back at Rose.

"They had to get done!" Her voice raised, still sounding furious, and she didn't care that they were repeating themselves like children in a petty quarrel.

"You can't get angry at me because you did them!"

"No," she threw at him, "but I can get angry at you because you never will. If you do those things you're admitting that we're never leaving, aren't you?"

The words hung there in the air between them. Rose had the sudden, odd sensation of knowing that she was absolutely, totally correct. The frozen look on his face told her she was right.

"I'm not having this conversation in a pub," the Doctor said after a long pause. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Rose surveyed her options. They were pretty limited, since her bag was still back at the flat.

"I'm coming," she muttered, and stood up, pausing to finish the last of Jeff's ale.

The Doctor shook his head, knowing perfectly well that she had little tolerance for alcohol. "Come on."

When they stepped outside Rose saw that it was night. The streets were bustling and people came and went with the same energy that Rose remembered from the London of her time. They walked along in silence for a while, Rose sulking and the Doctor with his hands in his pockets.

They passed the flat and kept going. Rose let the Doctor lead the way, not caring where they were headed. He stopped a few streets away from home, stepping down a dark alley and turning to face her.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Rose heard the wavering in her voice and thought that maybe drinking so much wasn't the best idea.

He spread his arms out. "Well, let it out. All the ways that I have wronged you. Let's hear it."

She stared at him in bafflement. "How you've wronged me?"

"I took you away from home and stole a year from your life. I've put you in danger too many times to count. You'll never see your mother again because of me," he chanted. "We're trapped in the past with no way out. You're not mad about the housekeeping. You're mad at me because you're trapped here."

"No. No! That's not it!" She was shocked and distressed that he would think that.

He wasn't convinced. "No? Then why don't you tell me, Rose, so I don't risk another glass being thrown at my head." His hand came up to point at the mark on his forehead.

She winced. "I'm sorry about that."

"No, you're not. You don't do things you don't mean. You don't say things you don't mean. You're compulsively honest to a fault. So tell me what's wrong, Rose." He stepped closer, looming over her in the darkness.

The words bubbled up on their own. Rose hadn't known how she felt until she heard herself speak.

"We're stuck here together, and there's nowhere for you to go to avoid me. We've never had to be so close for so long before. We've kissed. We've kissed twice. Twice! You're not possessed and you're not dying, and it was for real. It felt real to me." Embarrassingly, mortifyingly, her voice cracked.

"It was real," he said quietly. "It was real."

"It's...it's not right that you can kiss me the way you kiss me and then not mention it again. It's not fair."

"Do you want me to apologize?" He had no idea what she wanted him to do. The feeling threw him off balance.

"No, I don't want you to apologize!" Her voice echoed down the alley. "I want you to do it again!"

He was gaping at her. "You...you want me to kiss you again?"

"Very much. But I want you to mean it," Rose added, and she felt so vulnerable now, so afraid that he would willfully misinterpret what she was saying in order to avoid the entire situation.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said softly. "I don't want you to do something because you think you have to. I don't want you to think that you have no choice because we're trapped here."

Rose laughed softly. "I haven't had a choice for a long time, Doctor."

He reached out and touched her hair, winding a lock of it around his finger.

"I would very much like to kiss you again, Rose."

She smiled and then frowned, her attention caught by the red mark on his head.

"Does it hurt very much?"

"My head," he assured her as he slid his arms around her, "is pounding. You have very good aim."

"We should get-"

What she thought they should get was left unspoken. He covered her mouth with his, and she hung on to his shoulders and kissed him back as hard as he was kissing her.

* * *

"Finally!" Billy glared at them from where he stood in the living room. "Where did you go?"

"Sorry, Billy," the Doctor apologized. "I had to find Rose."

Billy didn't look impressed. "So I see. Any new marks?"

"Marks of what?" Rose asked in confusion.

"Marks of violence. On either of you," he added. "You threw a glass at him and left. It was unprovoked. He tore after you in a rage. Where I come from that's domestic violence."

"No more violence," the Doctor said firmly. "Domestic or otherwise."

"So now everything's fine and happy again, is it?"

They considered the question for a moment before nodding in unison.

Billy eyed their hands, twined together, and shook his head. "I don't know what's going on with you two, and I don't care." He shook a piece of paper at the Doctor. "You do realize that this is talking about DVDs? They haven't been invented yet! I'm going to have to wait for most of my life before we can even begin!"

The Doctor smiled a patronizing smile that made Billy long to hit him.

"Billy, Billy, Billy. I have it all well in hand. Believe me when I say that I have a plan."


	24. Chapter 24

The Doctor's plan, as far as Billy was concerned, sucked.

"I think it's a pretty good plan," Rose said hastily, seeing the look of astonishment on the Doctor's face when he was told that his plan was terrible.

Billy looked at her in disbelief. "Which part is a 'good plan'?" he asked. "The part where we wait for materials to be invented, or the part where we try to invent those materials using materials that haven't been invented yet?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Rose murmured. She glanced at the Doctor. She didn't know exactly what they had to do or where they'd be doing what they were going to do, but that wasn't her decision.

The Doctor had gotten over his astonishment at Billy's lack of vision, evidently lumping it in with the usual reaction of humans when faced with a plan of astonishingly clever magnitude. Soon he would begin to count the ways in which he was better than the average human, and then Rose would have to keep Billy from either being insulted, walking out, hitting the Doctor - or a possible combination of all three.

"It's actually well thought out," the Doctor corrected. "And it will be easy to implement."

"Where?" Billy looked around. "Not in the flat here, surely. You can't swing a cat in here."

"Well, no, actually." The Doctor moved to the table where his plans and papers were spread out in a massive, untidy heap. "The flat would be a ridiculous place to attempt it. I actually have a place in mind."

"You do? Where?" Rose asked in surprise.

"Where?" Billy demanded at the same time.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. "I don't have a _specific_ place in mind yet," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But as it's become more and more obvious that we are not going to be leaving here in as rapid a fashion as I would like, I need to find gainful employment."

"You what?" Rose said blankly. The conversation had suddenly moved in a different direction and she wasn't prepared for this topic.

"Gainful employment. An occupation. A job," he clarified.

"I know what it means!" she said in exasperation. "But your job is to get us back home! Besides, what could you do?" She heard the doubt in her own voice. The image of the Doctor standing in a shop and folding shirts or something was a pretty staggering one.

The Doctor took her hands, holding them in his own. "Rose, I'm going to get us back, with Billy's help. _ I promise._ But it's not fair for me to expect you to earn enough to keep a roof over our heads. And since you frown on my previous, well-proven methods to gain money, it seems like my only option."

"Well, we're not visiting some foreign planet or something," Rose was compelled to point out. "We're here for a while, yeah? Can't have you ripping people off all the time. Plus, we seem to have acquired a policeman. They don't like it when people break the law." They both glanced over at Billy, who could have told them that he had bigger problems than making sure his new friends didn't break the law.

Billy crossed his arms over his chest. "What can you do, anyway?" His expression suggested that he didn't think the Doctor's talents stretched very far. Rose thought it would be fun to see his expression when he realized how smart the Doctor truly was.

"Well, I think a laboratory would be an ideal place to build our equipment. I'll just get a teaching position or something at a university."

"Just like that?" Billy was skeptical, and Rose couldn't help grinning. He just hadn't known the Doctor long enough.

The Doctor smiled at Billy. "Oh, yes. Just like that."

"But where?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I'll find something." He spoke casually, as though finding employment without references or proper identification was nothing to worry about.

By the time that method had been debated - Billy didn't think the Doctor was taking any of this seriously - Billy and the Doctor both remembered that they hadn't eaten since the morning. Pizza sounded like a good idea, but Rose shook her head.

"I'm feeling a bit tired," she admitted. "Think I'll just hang around here, see what's on the telly."

"You're sure?" The Doctor looked at her with some concern.

She smiled. "I'm sure. You go on. Bring me back something for later," she said impulsively. "And...maybe you could go by the shops."

"The shops," he repeated. "What for? I thought you did the shopping this morning."

"I bought _food_ this morning. Billy needs some new clothes, doesn't he? And a toothbrush."

"Definitely a toothbrush," Billy said promptly.

"I'm out of cash just now," the Doctor started.

Rose sighed. "Okay, just this once. But don't overdo the psychic paper," she warned as the men headed for the door.

"What's psychic paper?" she heard Billy ask as the door closed behind them.

Rose giggled. Poor Billy. He really had no idea yet.

* * *

By Monday morning it was obvious that Billy was really, really regretting his new position in life. The Doctor was the sort of person who drove other people crazy, and Billy was no exception. Rose was glad to have to go to work.

"Have a good time, boys!" she said cheerfully. "See you tonight!"

The boys, already at work on something, didn't respond. Rose repeated herself once, then twice. Finally the Doctor looked up, a sweet smile on his face.

"See you later," he said, and Rose smiled and left, well pleased with the day so far.

No sign of any neighbors, she noted as she walked down the stairs. Usually she bumped into at least one person on weekday mornings. She passed the postman as he was walking in, and she held the door for him with a smile.

"Morning, Joe!"

"Good morning, miss." He didn't know her name but Rose wasn't offended - it was far easier for her to remember him than it was for him to remember all the people on his route.

The door had just closed behind her when she heard her name being called. She turned around, back to the flat, and was surprised by the Doctor, hurrying outside to catch up with her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He caught up to her and smiled a crooked smile. "No. No, everything's fine. Just wanted to, er, give you something."

His hands were empty. Rose looked from them to his face. He had a rueful expression.

"If my people could see me now they'd exile me all the way back to, er, well, to the here and now, I suppose," he said, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around.

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

He leaned down and kissed her, just a quick brush of his lips against her.

Rose blushed and glanced away. Sunday had been a day of talking and planning and helping Billy over his periodic panic attacks at being stuck back in time. There hadn't been opportunity for much private conversation, not that that came naturally to the Doctor anyway. He still tended to veer away from anything personal or private, even if it directly concerned him.

"Have a good day."

"You too," she managed to say. "Hey." She caught hold of his tie as he started to turn away. He looked at her questioningly.

Rose smiled, suddenly feeling very daring. "Take your suit to the cleaners," she said. "Wear normal stuff."

He sniffed. "We'll see."

She walked the rest of the way to the shop in a very cheerful mood. The past few days had been fun, but she was more than happy to return to work, away from the confines of the flat. When it was just the Doctor and her, it had been cozy. The addition of Billy had complicated things.

Her cozy thoughts of the Doctor vanished as she stopped in front of the shop. The facade had undergone some major changes since Friday afternoon. Rose had to double check the sign to make sure it was the right place. Instead of the red brick exterior, the shop now sported a dark brown siding. Rose touched it with a finger. The material was smooth and cool, and she couldn't quite figure out what it was. Not exactly plastic, definitely not wood. It extended to the empty space next door.

Rose walked over to that space and peered in through the windows. It was a bit hard to tell without the lights on, but it looked like major changes had gone one over the weekend. What had been a cold, gray space was now looking much closer to the interior of Helio Fashions.

When Rose pushed open the door to the shop, she was glad to see that the changes hadn't extended that far. The interior was still blue and yellow, but the floor space had expanded. New clothing racks were set up around the walls, and Iris was surrounded by a pile of boxes and what looked like shipping manifests.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here," Iris greeted her in relief. "It's simply chaos around here!"

Despite her claims of chaos, Iris looked calm and restrained in a bright blue dress with a paler blue stripe. Rose had seen a dress just that color at Laura Ashley last week, but it was in the new maxi-style that swept all the way to the floor. Floor-length fashions were not something Iris would wear to work. Full-length gowns only after five, she had said once, and Rose had thought she was joking.

"What's going on?" Rose put her things under the sales counter. She'd put them in the office before they opened for the day. "It looks like someone's been busy all weekend."

"Would you believe that Mr. Troy had men working on the space next door all weekend?" Iris demanded. "The second crew came in Friday night and only just left."

"That's a lot of overtime," Rose said.

"And Heloise just called to say that it was almost impossible to make a sale on Saturday!" Heloise was the assistant manager who only worked on Saturdays. "It was all sawing and hammering and...and banging!" Iris glared at the boxes as though they were at fault for not having good sales figures.

"Is he in that much of a hurry to finish up?"

"I guess so. I can't imagine why, though."

Both women turned to look at the door as it opened. It was too early for normal store hours, and Rose was about to apologize for not locking it up when she remembered that it had been unlocked when she'd entered herself.

"Morning." It was Jim from the construction crew. Over his work clothes he wore a black leather jacket, and he carried a mug in his hand, the 1960's answer to Starbucks in the morning.

Rose smiled in greeting. Iris managed a quick smile before turning back to her boxes.

"We won't be bothering you too much today," Jim said, leaning against a rack of party dresses that Rose sincerely hoped would hold his weight. "Looks like a group of elves helped us out this weekend."

That caught Iris's attention. "Didn't you know about the second crew?"

Jim shook his head and took a sip of his drink. The rack lurched dangerously as he shifted his weight, and he was forced to give up his casual stance before tipping the dresses and himself over.

"My men and I are the only ones, as far as we knew. Have we been sacked?"

"No," Iris said with a tinge of regret. "I just spoke to Mr. Troy. He didn't mention the other crew, but he expects you to keep on with the plans."

"All right, then." Jim smiled. "Didn't want to get started if we weren't wanted. Have a good one."

"He seems nice," Rose commented once Jim was out of the shop.

"If you like flashy blonds," Iris allowed.

"Don't you?"

"Of course I do. I mean, I haven't anything against them." Iris scowled. "I'll be in the office for a bit. I have some bills to write out."

"What can I do around here?"

Iris waved a hand at the mess on the floor. "Just unpack the clothes. We'll sort them out once the boxes are out of here."

Rose glanced at the clock. "We won't be done before we open up."

"I doubt customers will be a problem," Iris said ruefully. "Would you want to shop around this mess?"

Rose had left the flat early today. There was still an hour before they would open for business, and she amused herself by turning on the radio and pretending she was opening Christmas presents. The first box was opened up to the sounds of _Scarborough Fair. _ It was full of blouses, brightly colored and in a thin material that fell through Rose's hands when she tried to gather it up.

_"Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,"_ crooned Simon and Garfunkel as she stacked the blouses in a messy, slithery heap on the floor beside her. Iris would have a fit if she saw merchandise on the floor, but Rose had already moved on to the next box.

_Scarborough Fair _turned into_ Mrs. Robinson_, and Rose wondered if the radio was doing a Simon and Garfunkel marathon. She was unwrapping a truly ugly dress of orange and yellow when she had a strange sensation in her stomach.

She ignored the feeling until all twelve of the orange and yellow dresses were unwrapped and placed on hangers, but then the feeling intensified into a mild cramping, and she suddenly had a moment of pure panic. Traveling in the TARDIS made you lose track of relative time, but there was one thing that had never changed for her, one thing that she had always counted on happening no matter where she was. Getting lost in the 1960's had made her forget.

Rose abandoned the clothing and hurried to the sales counter to check the small calendar propped up there. She didn't need it to know that they'd been trapped in time for over a month.

"Dammit." Rose looked around the empty shop, seeking inspiration and fighting off the panic. The Doctor had always been able to take her someplace to pick up what she needed. The nearest chemist was always just a trip away. But here, the nearest chemist was still one from a time long before Rose's time, and she had no idea what she might find.

She had no choice, though. No TARDIS meant no choice.

Accepting the inevitable, Rose picked up her bag, walked to the back and knocked on the open office door. Iris was at the desk, writing out checks.

"I have to go," she told Iris. "Just down the street. I'll be right back."

"Okay. Be sure to lock the door behind you. Here." Iris tossed Rose the keys.

"Thanks." Rose locked the door as asked, hurrying to avoid the stream of workers heading in and out of the space next door.

She hurried to the nearest chemist, bypassing the magazine displays and walking right to the women's section. As she started to search, Rose made an unsettling discovery.

Ladies' hygiene in the 1960's was terrifying. She read the boxes, looking at the front of each different style carefully, and she grew more confused. None of them came right out and said what they were for, so it was a bit of a task reading between the lines to figure out what each style was designed to do. Then she came to a new shelf, where boxes of belts were stacked.

This had her more stumped than before. Why would there be belts in that aisle?

Realization came as Rose finally figured out how the belts and the pads were supposed to work together. For a couple of minutes she just stood there, frozen in place. There was no way this would work. Maybe she could ask the Doctor -

Her thoughts veered from that immediately. There was no way on Earth or off of it that she could ever ask the Doctor to modify something so intimate for her. It would reduce him to speechless shock or something.

To her immense, immense relief, as she desperately scanned the rest of the aisle she saw packages of tampons.

"Oh, thank you," she murmured fervently, grabbing a box. They might be made differently, they might not be what she was used to, they might not work very well, but they were all she had and she was happy to have them.

"I'd wait a bit, if I were you," a soft voice said beside her.

Rose turned to see a woman standing there, young and perfectly put together. Rose was learning one thing about London in 1969. While it was the time of free love and pop music and rebellion, the people who indulged in that behavior tended to be on the young and irresponsible side. Society in general had yet to succumb. So while many young girls were wearing their hair in pixie cuts like the model Twiggy and trying to lose weight to look as skinny as the popular fashion models of the day, most women did not.

The one in front of Rose wore a dark pink dress cinched tightly at the waist with a pale blue belt. She was curvy and attractive and far from the skin and bones all the rage in the magazines. Her dark brown hair was carefully swept up in a chignon, and Rose was amused to see that she carried a pair of white gloves in her hand. Even Iris, as proper and straight-laced as she was, didn't wear gloves during the day.

"Why should I wait a bit?" Rose asked in genuine curiosity. The girl appeared to be around her age, even if she was dressed to look a lot older.

The girl widened her eyes at Rose. "Didn't you see? At the counter!" She gestured with a hand. "The clerk up front is a _man_. You can't buy that from him."

Rose looked from the box in her hand to the similar box in the girl's hand.

"Are you serious? You wouldn't just go up and pay?"

"Of course not!" The girl's cheeks actually turned pink. "I couldn't."

For a moment Rose just stared at her. Surely this was one of the more bizarre conversations she'd ever had.

"Look, just give me that." Rose reached out for the box. "You can meet me outside and pay me back."

The girl stared at her. "You're just going to go up there?"

Rose had purchased worse things from complete strangers, male and female, and she was not going to hang around a chemist shop waiting for a woman to magically appear to ring her up.

"I have to get to work. I'll see you outside."

She paused and picked up the current issue of _Vogue_ on the way up front, and plunked the items down in front of the clerk. There was a touch of defiance in her actions, which was absurd because she didn't share the same inhibitions as the woman she was helping out.

The clerk rung her up and accepted the money without even blinking.

"Have a nice day," he said without looking at Rose, and she took the bag.

"Thanks."

Outside, the girl was waiting anxiously. Rose looked at her in amusement. You'd think she was waiting to buy something illegal, like drugs or scalped concert tickets.

"Here you go." Rose handed the girl her change and the box, which quickly disappeared into a white leather bag.

"Thank you." The girl smiled at Rose. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Rose watched her walk away, shook her head, and hurried back to the shop.

As she walked she had a flashback to being twelve years old. Jackie had sat down on her bed one night and handed her a book. She'd explained the birds and the bees to Rose, blushing and clearing her throat while she did so. By the time she'd shown Rose a box of maxi-pads she'd been almost speechless. Rose hadn't had the heart to tell her mum that she'd learned the facts of life years ago from her friend Shireen's older sisters.

Rose smiled at the memory. What she wouldn't give to talk to her mum, right then. They'd have a laugh over those silly belts and whether any man was able to handle what a woman's body was equipped to do.

She missed her mother so much. For a minute the pain crushed her chest, and she had to fight the urge to go track down her grandparents just so she could see her family again.

Rose stood still for a minute, forcing her thoughts back in order. Jackie might be here, in this time, but she was a child, not her mother. There was no use in following her, because she simply wasn't Jackie. Not yet.

"All set?" Iris called from the office as Rose walked past the open doorway to the bathroom.

"All set!" Rose said cheerfully.

When she returned to the floor, ready for work, she found Iris back amongst the boxes.

"Sorry about that. I forgot what, er, something."

"Oh, no problem." Iris brushed back a lock of dark hair that had fallen across her face. "Could you give me a hand?"

Rose looked at what Iris was doing. "You're not trying to move those racks by yourself, are you? They're huge."

They were also heavy - the lightweight fixtures Rose remembered from Henriks were just a vision of the future at this point. The racks here were heavy and hard to move, although they did have the benefit of not tipping over were a child to try and play on them.

Iris looked annoyed. "They're in the way here. If I can just move them over, I can set some clothes on them."

"Yeah, but then wouldn't we have to move them back to where they belong once everything's put back?"

"But at least the boxes wouldn't be on the sales floor!" Iris sounded distinctly angry, and that was enough to make Rose stare at her. Iris never got angry. She was too well-bred for that.

"Sure." Rose helped Iris move the racks.

"It's just that I hate disorder," Iris explained, giving a pile of tissue paper a kick. "Mr. Troy has turned everything around here upside down, and it drives me mad."

"Well, yeah, but at least we know it'll be over when the new part of the shop is finished." Rose thought she sounded encouraging, but Iris just made a face.

Rose must have made a face of her own, because Iris apologized immediately.

"You must think I'm a frightful complainer!" she exclaimed. "I'm not, really. It's just that this is my first real job, and I want the shop to be a success."

"It is," Rose pointed out. "But why do you need it to be a success so badly? I mean, you could always find work someplace else if you had to."

"My parents were against my having a job at all," Iris admitted. She dropped the trousers she was holding and sat on the floor, heedless of her skirt.

Rose blinked. This was the first time she'd seen Iris do something not lady-like.

"My family is a bit...proper," Iris continued. "A lot proper, actually. My mother is convinced that marriage is the only thing for her daughters to aim for, even in this day and age. Can you imagine?" Here Rose rolled her eyes in sympathy and nodded. "So when I finished school and went to work for Mr. Troy my parents were in shock. I'd like to prove them wrong about women being able to be a success in the man's world."

Rose had a few thoughts about the man's world business - her mum hadn't raised to take the world by storm, and she may have thought working in a fancy shop was bad for her, but she certainly hadn't told Rose that just because she was a girl meant she'd never amount to anything.

And anyway, Rose had met the Doctor, and he had yet to be convinced that there was anything Rose couldn't do. Sometimes he even made Rose believe it herself.

"Time to open up!" Iris stood up quickly, brushing herself off. "I'm sorry if I got too personal."

"Oh, no," Rose denied. "It's always nice to know something about the people you're with all day."

Iris smiled mischievously as she went to unlock the door. "Next it's your turn. You can tell me how you met John."

Rose sighed. "Oh, there's something you'd love to hear." Would she begin with the exploding buildings, or the man who changed his face?

The day passed quickly. Despite the sometimes difficult task of placating women with too much money and too much time on their hands, Rose enjoyed her job. Iris was pleasant to work with, and you couldn't ask for a better boss. Her "feminine protection" was holding up, too, for which she was eternally grateful. It would be asking too much to hope that dinner would be made when she got home, but maybe Billy was a gourmet cook in his spare time.

The workday had just an hour to go and the shop was empty. The clothes were nearly all put away, and they'd almost managed to ignore the sounds of construction coming from next door. Rose had dusted off the fixtures, tables and lamps and plumped the cushions on the blue and yellow chair. The fitting rooms were empty, and she felt almost as pleased as when she straightened up the flat. It was nice to see things put in order.

Iris was closest to the door when it opened up. It was Jim, wearing his work clothes. The dark fabric was covered in sawdust. He took off his cap as he came inside, revealing fair hair that glinted in the light despite its fine coating of dust.

He stopped when he saw Iris and smiled. Under his arm were several long, rolled up pieces of paper. Iris smiled back and waited for him to say something.

"Hello, there, er..." Jim looked slightly panicked. He glanced around and saw Rose standing there with a duster in her hand. Relief came over his face. "Hello, Rose! Just here to show you some diagrams Mr. Troy wants done."

"You need Iris, don't you? Not me?"

"Iris! Yes." Jim turned to Iris. "Iris. Hello. Shall we?"

She looked him with narrowed eyes. "You remembered her name but not mine?"

Rose looked at her in surprise. There was a definite note of pique in Iris' voice. Was she upset about that?

"Well, I'm terrible with names, most of the time," he admitted. "But my little sister's named Rose, so that stuck. Shall we?"

"You can come into the back," Iris said grudgingly.

Rose shook her head as they disappeared into the back. She would never understand Iris.

A moment later Iris and Jim flew from her thoughts. Hovering outside was a tall, skinny man with brown hair. He waved at her through the window. Rose smiled and watched as he walked in. Instead of the brown suit he wore plain brown trousers that one day would be called khakis by the designers at the Gap. The blue shirt he wore resembled his own, as did the darker blue t-shirt he wore underneath it.

"Hello," she said, setting the duster down.

The Doctor smiled down at her. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"How do I look?"

She pretended to look him over. "Very nice."

He all but preened, that absurd streak of vanity showing through again. "Thank you."

"How was your day?" Rose was aware that she was sounding alarmingly wifely and domestic, but the Doctor clearly didn't mind.

"Not bad, not bad." He stuck his hands in his pockets, remembered that these pockets weren't as roomy, and settled for crossing his arms against his chest. "I have a job and a lab and a plan to make the cameras and disks we'll need."

"You have a job? Where?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I have been offered a position at a well-known university here in London," he began.

"Just today?" Rose interrupted.

"Just today. In my guise as a post-graduate student, I've been offered a laboratory in which to do research. In exchange I have to teach one class a week and do other, teaching-related things. It doesn't pay much," he added, looking at Rose, "but it's enough for now."

Rose was dumbfounded. "When did you have time to do that?"

He looked offended. "I don't just hang around here all day, you know."

"What field are you supposed to be in?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Physics. And don't worry," he added quickly. "The cafeteria isn't hiring right now."

She slugged him on the shoulder.

"Ouch," he said mildly, rubbing his arm.

Rose was still processing this. "So they gave you a job and lab to work in?"

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets again. "Yep."

"And you have access to whatever we'll need to build whatever we'll need."

"Yep."

"And what uni is it?"

The Doctor told her. Rose's eyes opened wide and she just stared in amazement.

"I know," the Doctor said with a grin. "But if you work with the best, you'll never regret it."


	25. Chapter 25

He was eager to take her to work and show off his lab, but Rose had other things in mind.

"Where's Billy?" Rose easily and without compunction interrupted him in the middle of an enthusiastic description of Bunsen Burners. Or maybe it was beakers. She never could keep the two straight.

The Doctor looked hurt. "Don't you care about where I'll be working?"

"Of course I care. I absolutely do," she assured him. "Totally. Completely." She smiled up at him, and he smiled back, pleased. Her next words wiped the smile off his face and replaced it with a disgruntled expression. "Just not at dinner time. So where is he?"

"He's sleeping," the Doctor explained. "Amazing what a shower and new clothes can do. Seeing how 1969 looks helped his mind make the leap that this is reality. I think he's over most of the shock."

"Well, that's good."

"He's not happy about the fashions of the day, though. He started laughing in the middle of Harrods and wouldn't stop." The Doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Oh, dear," Rose said sympathetically.

"Oh, he eventually agreed to try some things on," the Doctor assured her. "I predict that he'll come to love the leisure suit."

Rose couldn't prevent a shudder. "Tell me you never wore one of those. They're hideous."

He coughed and looked around the shop furtively, and Rose resolved to never bring that up again. The image of him - in any form - wearing some of the current fashions was something she just couldn't wrap her head around.

"Are you ready to go?" the Doctor asked hopefully, walking around and examining fabrics and various items of ladies' clothing.

"It's not time to close up yet. Not that it matters. Since the new construction started we've hardly had any customers."

"Is that what all the noise is? New construction?" The Doctor stared at the wall, beyond which came the sounds of hammers, an occasional man's voice, and a steady stream of Beatles songs.

"I told you about it." Rose heard the annoyance in her voice. She knew darned well she had talked about the expansion to him several times. Would it kill him to listen to her once in a while? She listened to him when he was talking about something important.

"Yes," he said vaguely. "Did you? What's going on back there? What's the point of it?" He moved to stand closer to the wall.

Well, to be fair, he _tried_ to listen.

"We're expanding. And you can't see anything from there," she added unnecessarily. "They haven't knocked down the walls yet."

"Clearly." He tapped on the wall with an idle finger. Rose watched him to see if he would pull out the sonic screwdriver or lick the wall or something, but he only flung himself down on one of the chairs, staring at his reflection in the mirrors hung on the outside of the dressing room doors.

"So do men really sit here and wait for their wives to come out?" he asked, turning his head around to look at Rose.

"Sometimes. Sometimes it's a boyfriend. Usually a girlfriend, though."

"You never model clothes for me," he said accusingly.

She smiled mysteriously, suddenly feeling rather daring. "That's something you'll have to earn."

For once she had rendered him incapable of a comeback. She smiled in pleasure and turned around.

"I'll let Iris know we're leaving."

She left him still sitting in the chair, struggling to find something to say, and went to the back office. Jim and Iris were standing across from each other over the desk, looking at blueprints.

"It really doesn't matter," Iris was saying. "If that's what Mr. Troy wants, then fine. As long as you finish up soon and go away."

"Iris," Rose said in a shocked voice.

Iris looked mortified as she saw Rose standing in the doorway. Jim rolled up the blueprints, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I meant, I just want the noise and the mess gone," Iris started, but Jim swept up his papers.

"Absolutely, mum. As soon as we can get ourselves off and out yer way, we'll do so." His accent had become broad and suddenly not his own, mocking Iris' finishing-school voice. "Miss." He touched a hand to his forehead and left the office.

Rose folded her arms and stared at Iris. "All right. Tell me."

"Tell you what?" Iris clearly was trying to brazen it out, but Rose knew what it must have cost her to be so rude. Iris was never rude to anyone. It wasn't in her nature.

"What is going on? Why are you so mean to him?"

"I wasn't being mean! I just want everything back to normal."

Rose stared at her boss for another moment, trying to figure her out. When it became clear that Iris was not going to confide in her, she sighed and reached for her things.

"I'm leaving now. Are you all right with balancing the till?"

"Of course," Iris murmured. She still hadn't looked up at Rose, and finally Rose gave up and went back to the Doctor.

"Who was that in the back with you?" he asked curiously when she came out. "Tall bloke, black leather jacket like I used to wear, papers under his arm? He looked furious."

Rose let the Doctor take her bag while she took off her nametag.

"He's part of the crew next door. I think Iris made him mad."

He had taken off her nametag and was turning it over in his hand, looking from its backing to her shirt.

"Is this magnetic? There are no holes in your blouse."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Is this unique to the store?"

"I dunno. Here's Iris." She took the tag from him and stuck it in her pocket.

"Rose." Iris had come out from the back. "I'm sorry. Really I am."

Rose smiled gently. "Iris, you didn't do anything to me. Whatever it is, make it right, okay?"

"Okay." Iris managed a shaky smile. "Hello, John. How are you?"

The Doctor beamed at her. "Just fine, thanks. Place looks lovely, Iris. Love what you've done with the, er..." The compliment got away from him as he looked around in an attempt to find something. "The lighting," he finished lamely.

Iris smiled. "Thanks. Have a good night."

Rose hesitated. "You sure you're all right, Iris?"

"I'm fine. I'll see you in the morning."

After Iris had seen them to the door and locked it behind them, the Doctor handed Rose her bag back. She hooked it onto her arm and accepted the hand he held out to her. It felt like they were any other couple, heading home after work. It surprised her how much she wanted that feeling to last. She squeezed his hand more tightly, bringing his attention to her.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Rose hugged his arm to her. "I'm okay."

He moved his hand from hers and slipped it around her shoulder. "Good."

Billy was awake when they got back to the flat. He was watching

television and eating from a sleeve of crackers. Crumbs fell all over his dark blue sweater and onto the floor. Rose looked at the carpet and sighed.

"It's amazing!" he said to Rose. "They're planning to walk on the moon next week. The moon!"

She grinned back at him. "It's exciting to be right here, isn't it?"

"It's crazy," Billy murmured. "I don't think BBC1 has stopped talking about it."

"They'll be going on until the night of the actual space walk," the Doctor put in helpfully. "You know. Neil Armstrong, one small step for man? That'll be July 20, of course."

"And I thought the media went crazy over Princess Diana," Billy commented. Rose sat down next to him, her attention fixed on the screen.

The Doctor waited a full thirty minutes, but neither human showed signs of switching the blasted television off.

"All right," he said briskly, drawing their attention over to him. "I have a job now. A quite proper job," he added with a nod to Rose. She solemnly nodded back. "Who wants to see my place of employment?"

"Right now?" Billy didn't look away from the news anchor.

"Oh, but I thought we'd go have dinner," Rose protested. "I'm starving."

"Me too! These crackers aren't very filling."

"You could have made a sandwich," the Doctor said.

"I would have, if you hadn't eaten all the bread and marmalade."

"I was hungry."

"So was I!"

"That settles it!" Rose said cheerfully. "Let me just go change and freshen up."

The Doctor scowled. "Don't you want to see where I'll be working?"

Rose didn't even look back at him. "Plenty of time for that!"

"It's _Cambridge_, Rose! Cambridge! Have you no sense of...of history?"

"Of pompousness?" Billy suggested, sealing up his crackers. "How'd you get hired at Cambridge, anyway?"

"Have you forgotten all of our previous conversations? I'm very clever. My base of knowledge is far beyond any other human."

"Yeah, but is that enough to get you into Cambridge?"

The Doctor fixed him with a death glare and spoke as though to a child. "Doctor. Time Lord. TARDIS."

Billy was unimpressed. "Billy. Human. Cop."

"That's enough, boys," Rose said hastily, seeing the murder in the Doctor's eyes. "There's enough testosterone on here to do some serious damage."

Her light tone broke the mood. The Doctor huffed out his breath and sat down next to Billy. The springs in the old couch protested loudly and squeakily, and Billy was moved a few centimeters as things settled back into place.

"Love what you've done with the furniture," Billy commented. "You could do with some stuff from IKEA."

"Hand me a cracker," the Doctor said, and used the sonic screwdriver to turn up the volume on the television.

With their attention taken by the upcoming moon landing, Rose hurried to her bedroom, eager to get out of her work clothes. She paused in the bath and quickly washed her face free of the heavy sixties makeup she'd put on that morning. The heavy foundation, blush, eye shadow and tons of liner and mascara were losing their appeal for her. What had started out as fun had quickly turned into a hassle. Plus, it made her face itch. She didn't think makeup was as carefully formulated as it had been back in her proper time. Who knew how many bunnies had suffered in order for her mascara to come to market?

In her bedroom she pulled out clean clothing before going back in the bath. She started the water running in the tub, prompting the Doctor to shout down the hall.

"You said you'd be right back!"

Rose opened the bathroom door. "No, I didn't!" she shouted back.

"But what about dinner?" he hollered back to her.

"It won't kill the two of you to wait!" she yelled, and closed and locked the door and took a quick bath, repairing the damage done by a day of work and feminine hygiene products that weren't as capable as those she was used to. She dressed in dark brown hiphuggers and a white t-shirt. She rather liked this style of trousers. The material was stretchy and comfortable, and they flattered her shape. It was almost as good as wearing jeans.

She pulled her charms out to hang outside her shirt, dried her hair into a smooth, straight style that didn't require backcombing, and did her makeup the way she used to - heavy liner and mascara and little else. Rose unlocked the door and listened. The Doctor and Billy were discussing something space related. It sounded like they were getting along, and she figured she had a few more minutes. She scooped up the clothes she'd worn that day, turned off the bathroom light, and returned to her room.

She dropped the clothes in the small laundry basket she kept by the wardrobe. As she was standing in front of the small wooden bureau, looking in the mirror as she put her earrings in, her eyes fell on her mobile phone.

She didn't carry it much these days - there was no one she needed to call and she didn't want to draw attention to the unusual device. Usually it stayed on her dresser. But now she picked it up and sat on the bed, slowly scrolled through the list of contacts.

Heather. Janet. Keisha. Shireen. Friends she couldn't call because how would she explain her voice after being listed among the dead at Canary Wharf? Mickey. Mum.

She missed her mum so much. She could keep it at bay most of the time - this time period was distracting, and the Doctor kept her busy. But seeing her grandmother and her mother as a small child had made her miss her family so much more. Slowly, Rose pushed her mother's name in the contacts list and lifted the phone to her ear. It rang and rang and rang, and just when she was about to give up, she heard the line engage. She had to fight to get enough air in her lungs to speak, but her hopes were cruelly dashed. _"This line is no longer in service."_

Rose ended the call, tears stinging her eyes. But the superphone still worked. She thought for a minute before taking a deep breath. She dialed a single number.

_"Operator."_

"Can I have the number for Lionel Prentice, please? Southwark Road, London."

_"I'll connect you."_

The line clicked on and rang again, and Rose heard the familiar voice she hadn't heard since she was a little girl.

_"Hello? Hello?"_

"Gr- granddad?"

_"Wrong number, sweetie. Ask your mummy to help you dial." _And the line went dead.

Rose turned the superphone off and dropped it on the bed beside her.

There was a knock on the door.

"Rose? Are you ready? Billy's about to die of hunger, and I'm not far behind."

Rose wiped at her face and stood up. "Yeah!" She shoved the mobile deep into a drawer and then opened the door. The Doctor was standing there, a slight look of concern on his face.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Feel like some pizza? I'm starving!"

He blocked the doorway when she would have walked past him into the hallway.

"Have you been crying?" There was surprise in his voice.

"No. I'm fine."

"Rose." He took her arm. "Look at me."

She tried to do it but she couldn't. Instead she began to cry, and the Doctor pulled her close against him and murmured soft words into her hair.

"I miss my mum," she confessed into his shirt as he stroked her hair.

"I know. I know you do."

Just hearing him say that, having her feelings validated and understood, was enough to make her feel better. Sniffing, she pulled away.

"I'm okay now."

He searched her face. "Why don't I believe you?"

"I am. Really. Are you ready?"

"You are not making any sort of sense here, Rose," he complained.

That made her feel better than she had all day. "Call it a woman's prerogative. It's my right to make you crazy."

He stared down at her, squinting a little in the dim light of the hallway. "Are you trying to make me crazy?"

"Maybe." And she grinned at him, her tongue caught between her teeth. "Is it working?"

"Rose Tyler, you've been making me crazy since the day I met you." He reached for her to hug her to him, but Billy appeared beside them before he could kiss her the way he meant to.

"Are you going to starve me now that I've reached this time era?" he demanded, and Rose stepped away from the Doctor.

"Pizza it is!" she said brightly, and went down the hallway to the door. Billy glanced curiously at the Doctor and followed her. The Doctor sighed and shook his head as he led up the rear. Humans.

Rose couldn't help laughing to herself as she glanced back to look at the Doctor's face. Who would have thought that she'd enjoy not kissing him more than kissing him? It was much more fun to flirt with him in 1969.


	26. Chapter 26

"A large cheese pizza, breadsticks and sauce, and a side salad with house dressing." Billy closed his menu and looked up at the waitress.

"And to drink?"

"A Diet Coke, please."

She stared at him in puzzlement. "You're on a diet but you want a Coke?"

"No, a _DIET_ Coke."

"Coca-Cola, then."

"Diet Coca-Cola," he corrected her.

Billy and the waitress were sharing identical looks of confusion, the kind of look that says you think the other person is crazy. Rose thought it was pretty funny.

The Doctor cleared his throat to catch Billy's attention. Billy glanced at him. The Doctor shook his head slightly. Billy had already seen that look several times. It was the look that told him he was mentioning something that was out of the current time. Boot-cut jeans, men's skin care products, and microwave popcorn were just some of the items that merited that look.

"You're kidding," Billy said, offended.

"Not yet. Sorry."

"So, a Coke, then?" the waitress persisted.

Billy sighed and handed over his menu. "Yeah. A Coke. Thanks."

Rose ordered for both herself and the Doctor, the Doctor busy lecturing Billy on the exact timeline of where and when and how Diet Coke, Coke Zero, Caffeine-Free Coca-Cola, Vanilla Coca-Cola, Lime Coca-Cola, Coffee Coke, Apple-Cider Coke and Soy Sauce Coca-Cola were created.

"Of course, some of those won't be marketed until fifty years or more from now," the Doctor concluded. "But it may help you when you're ordering drinks in the future."

Rose hid a smile behind her water glass. Billy looked annoyed, his default expression when dealing with the Doctor.

"Wonder if I can get some rum put in my Coke," he muttered.

The Doctor smiled at him tolerantly. "You'll be fine, Billy! You have a lovely future ahead of you."

"Yeah, one where I know exactly where and when I'll die. Not what everyone hopes of."

"At least you'll be ready," Rose said, trying to be helpful.

"I'll be all alone except for Sally Sparrow."

"But you'll be married!" Rose said brightly. "She said you had a good life."

"And I'll lose my hair," Billy said darkly, and there was nothing Rose could say to counter the unfairness of that one.

The waitress brought their drinks and a basket of breadsticks. Billy drank his Coke in silence, still depressed over his future. Rose and the Doctor were talking softly about something, and he knew they'd include him in the conversation if he showed the least interest in it.

He looked around the restaurant instead. It was a stereotypical kind of place, the sort with red and white plastic tablecloths and flickering candles on the tabletops. Couples and families were seated all around them, enjoying their dinners. Billy's gaze went to a family of four. Dad was wearing a mint green polo shirt and baby blue slacks. Mum wore a yellow and blue plaid blouse with green trousers and a large white pearl necklace. Their two young boys wore typical kid clothing, as far as he could tell. Dark trousers and plain shirts.

At the table behind the family were two couples. The girls were wearing cardigans and plaid skirts and the young men wore collared shirts and clean-cut hair. Across the room from them was a woman with long, uncombed hair wearing a tie-dyed shirt sitting with a man with hair almost as long.

The sixties, Billy was left to conclude, was a frightening decade. Only the knowledge that disco was yet to come kept him from thinking things couldn't get any worse. He felt a wave of longing for his own family, not even here in London yet. They were still living in Jamaica, still waiting for him and his brothers to be born, still waiting to come to England.

Billy wrenched his thoughts away from that subject with a great effort. From there his thoughts went to work, and what would be happening once he was discovered missing. He finally noticed that his companions were sitting quietly, looking at him.

He shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

"You looked sad," Rose said quietly.

"Yeah. Well, I was sad. I am sad."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Billy sighed. "Wasn't your fault, was it? You didn't do anything."

"I know. But it wasn't yours, either. Those angels lie in wait for victims. We were all in the wrong place."

"And now we're in the wrong time."

"Billy!" she said in delight. "Was that a joke?"

"No," he huffed.

"Sounded like a joke."

"It wasn't."

Rose turned to the Doctor. "I think Billy was making a joke."

He was sitting next to Rose, his arm stretched out along the back of the booth, behind her shoulders. To Billy it looked like she could move just a few centimeters and be cuddled against his chest with no effort at all. Strands of her hair kept getting caught up in the rough weave of the shirt the Doctor wore. It was a dark blue, and the blonde hairs shone even in the harsh light of the restaurant.

The Doctor was staring down at Rose with a small, bemused smile on his face.

"Don't you think he was making a joke?" she persisted, and whatever the Doctor had been thinking was cleared from his mind as he looked from Rose to Billy.

In a rare moment of tact and understanding, the Doctor diffused the situation by handing Rose the breadbasket, "Breadstick, Rose?"

"Thanks."

Billy sighed and shook his head. It hadn't been a joke.

* * *

"So why Cambridge, anyway? It's an hour from here, at least." Billy peered at the Doctor from over his salad.

Rose paused in the middle of eating her own salad and looked up at the Doctor.

"That's pretty far," she said slowly. "I didn't think about the distance."

"I only have to be there twice a week," the Doctor told her reassuringly. "I'm starting out with just one class to teach. Plenty of time to build the camera and disks to make the recordings, and then we can go home!"

"But how long will it take?" Rose persisted, and Billy admired the way she might be crazy about the Doctor but she didn't let it blind her to his faults. "What if you're there for months and months?"

"I won't be," the Doctor said firmly as the waitress appeared with their pizzas. "I'll earn some money to keep me honest, and I'll be able to use the university's resources to get us home."

Rose didn't look totally convinced. Billy sympathized with her. He wasn't totally convinced, either. In the end, Rose's faith in the Doctor carried the day, and she was able to eat enough pizza to make the Doctor nod in satisfaction. With Rose so convinced, Billy let himself be convinced as well, and was pleasantly surprised by how good the pizza was, even though it clearly was not cooked in a brick oven.

The only thing that jarred his enjoyment of dinner was the sight of an older couple across the restaurant, who were each enjoying a cigarette with a cup of coffee.

"They can't be smoking in here," he said, and forgot himself enough to start to stand up and go over to them.

"Smoking's allowed right now," Rose said hastily, and Billy groaned and sat back down.

"Why does everything have to change?" he demanded of the Doctor. "Everything is different. Is it asking so much that some things be the same as I remember?"

"Time changes things, Billy. Nothing stays the same for very long. By the time you remember London in the twenty-first century, these people will be recalling the glory days of smoking after dinner. And the things you'll take for granted in the twenty-first century - that you did and will take for granted - your children will probably think are old-fashioned and ridiculous." The Doctor shrugged. "All children think their parents are old and backwards."

Rose looked at him quickly at his last words, but he didn't say anything else, and Billy didn't understand why they would make her react that way.

Rose looked away from the Doctor as quickly as she had looked at him. "You wouldn't believe the stuff I've seen here," she said to Billy, leaning across the table towards him. "A few weeks ago I saw my pregnant grandmother smoking!"

Billy acted with typical revulsion. "She's pregnant with your mum or dad?"

"No, not my mum. My mum's already here. She's three."

"Three years old?"

"Yeah."

Billy shook his head. "It kills me how you can act like this is nothing! Like it's so normal to run into your grandparents and see your mother as a baby."

"I didn't say it was normal!" Rose snapped. "And it's not fun to be rejected by people you're related to. It's happened to me a few times, so I know. But what choice do we have here?"

"Finish your pizza, Billy." The Doctor pushed Billy's plate closer to him. "If you think too hard about all this you'll go mad."

* * *

With the distance from London to the university in mind, Rose firmly vetoed a jaunt down to the campus that night. She wanted to go home and relax. She was content to walk down the street with her hand in the Doctor's, enjoying the sights and sounds of London.

Billy, walking on the other side of the Doctor, had other thoughts.

"What's that he's handing around?" he demanded, spotting a group of young men on the corner. "Those little bags -"

"Probably marijuana," the Doctor said tolerantly as Rose glanced around curiously. "Quite common these days."

"They should be arrested."

"Ah, but don't you feel the least bit nostalgic? Time was that dope was the hardest thing on the streets. These days are long gone, Billy." The Doctor's voice hardened. "Cocaine, heroine, crack. All the wonders of the modern world still to come."

Billy stared hard at the little group as they passed by. "The law is still the law."

"You're not a cop anymore. Best to start acting like it."

Billy did not want to start acting like it. He didn't want to do any of this. He wanted to be back where he belonged.

Rose reached out to him, stretching her arm across the Doctor's chest.

"It'll get better, I promise," she said, her fingers tugging on his sleeve.

"You don't know that." Billy was aware, in a distant corner of his mind, that he was acting like a jerk, but he couldn't help it. People were dealing drugs on the street and talking about free love and the Beatles and the people who weren't acting like that were dressed in clothing last seen in _Leave it to Beaver_.

"I do know that. We've seen your future. You get married and you have a happy life. Things get better." Rose fixed him with a firm look, and Billy was forced to back down. She was absolutely right.

"Okay. So I'm happy later on. Right now can I just be a miserable sod?"

The Doctor laughed out loud, which was fine for him, since he still had a firm hold on Rose, who was looking at him with undisguised adoration.

"No time for miserable sods, Billy! Let's go home and work out our game plan."

Billy shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. Beside him, the Doctor and Rose had already forgotten his presence. They were still holding hands - did they ever let go? - and were chattering quietly about something. Rather than try to join the conversation, Billy contented himself with looking around on the walk home. London was a fascinating place this year, and there was a lot to see. It wasn't very hot for a July evening, and gradually Billy found himself forgetting the awful lot that was his life.

A newsstand caught his attention. The newspapers and magazines were all talking about the upcoming moon landing, and Billy felt a spark of excitement that he'd get to see that as it happened. He dug around in his pockets only to remember that the money he had was a lot newer - or was it older? - than the money currently being issued.

"Hey." He turned to the Doctor and poked him in the arm. Surprised, the Doctor turned around.

"Something wrong?"

"You got a couple of pounds? I want to buy something." Billy gestured to the stand.

The Doctor smiled, pleased that Billy wasn't complaining or angry. "Let me see." He dug around in his pockets but all he had were a few coins. "Rose?" He turned a charming smile onto her, which, to her credit, Rose ignored.

"Is it on me, again, then? Good thing I have a job." She pulled some bills out of her bag. "Here you go."

"Thanks. I'll pay you back," Billy promised.

He grabbed a couple of magazines and held out the bills to the agent.

"Here you go, mate."

The agent gestured at the magazines in Billy's hand. "Glad to help you out, young man! The moon landing will be amazing, won't it? Can't wait, can't wait!"

Billy grinned. The agent was a man in his forties, with dark hair and twinkling blue eyes. He reminded Billy a bit of Father Christmas. "I can't wait, either. Should be exciting."

The agent leaned forward. "I'll tell you what," he said in a low, conspiratorial tone. "Once they land on the moon, it's only a short time until they move on to Mars."

Billy blinked in surprise. "You think so?"

"I know so! And you know what happens after that?" The man leaned in even closer. "They're gonna find aliens, they are! Proof of aliens! And then there won't be no more cover ups about it. Think the government and America don't know about 'em?"

Billy shook his head to clear it. The guy sounded like something out of _The X-Files_. "I don't know. Do they?"

"'Course they do!" the agent said scornfully. "I keep watch at night with me telescope, but I haven't seen anything yet. But I will. Mark my words, when aliens come, you can remember that it was Wilfred Mott who predicted it first." He nodded in satisfaction, and Billy grinned.

"I'll remember that. Thanks."

"What was he saying to you?" Rose asked curiously when he joined them again farther down the street. The Doctor and Rose had continued walking, but Billy accepted this as standard behavior. When the two of them were together, others tended to fade away.

Billy snorted. "Another conspiracy theory nut. Says they'll find aliens on Mars if not on the moon."

The Doctor shook his head. "No life on the moon. It's just a rock. Nothing on Mars, either. In 2057 a human colony will land on Mars, though. No aliens life forms found there, either."

"You always say nothing ever was on Mars!" Rose said in surprise. "You won't even take - you never even took me there. But there was a human colony?"

With both humans looking at him in fixed interest, the Doctor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There _was_ a colony established there," he admitted. "They did quite well for awhile, too. But something happened in November of 2059. The entire base was destroyed. No one knows why. No one ever settled the planet again."

Rose pouted. "That's terrible. Everyone always talks about life on Mars, and there never was any!"

"Terrible? Aw, not so much!" The Doctor took her hand again and gave it a squeeze. "It was the impetus for humans to start traveling through the stars in earnest. That was the starting point for discovering new life and new planets. Amazing, really."

Billy grunted. "Too bad those Angels couldn't have thrown me forward in time. It would have been fun to see what's going to happen. This way I'm stuck reliving everything."

"There are worse things." They'd arrived at their building, and the Doctor opened the door for Rose. He followed her in, leaving the door to nearly smack Billy in the face.

"Bloody alien," Billy muttered to himself. A door to his left opened a crack. He glanced over, his cop's instincts kicking in automatically. The door quickly closed again, leaving him with no more than the impression of a small amount of light from the flat behind it, and what he thought was a small woman standing at the door peering through.

"This entire place is too strange," he muttered to himself, taking the stairs two at a time to Rose's flat. He closed the door behind him, locking it automatically.

"Doesn't matter what year it is," he commented, walking into the living room. "Nosy neighbors are everywhere."

The Doctor had collapsed onto the couch. He looked up at Billy. "We have nosy neighbors?"

Billy shoved at the Doctor's trainers. "Oi! Get 'em off. This is my bed!"

Rose came in from the kitchen, where she'd poured a glass of Coke for herself.

"We do! I've told you about her. That's Mrs. MacMurray," she explained to Billy. "She doesn't get out much, but she's an old dear. She likes to keep watch on what goes in and out of the building."

"Nosy neighbors," Billy repeated. "Not always a bad thing. They get to know the rhythm of a place and they know who doesn't belong pretty quick. Good at crime prevention."

"That makes me feel safer," the Doctor couldn't help saying. "She must be all of seventy if she's a day." Then he jumped up. "Does it seem warm in here to you?"

Rose was surprised into a laugh. "You're never warm. Or cold."

"Well, it's warmer in here." He walked over to a window and pried it up a few inches.

"It's July," Billy pointed out. "Heat rises, and it's hot. No central air, eh?"

"Not even a fan," Rose sighed. "We'll boil until we get back."

The Doctor moved to another window. "At least we can get some air going."

Billy watched this with his arms folded across his chest. "Another way to be uncomfortable," he commented. "Which reminds me. How long do I have to sleep on this couch? It's too damned uncomfortable."

"It's all we have." Rose touched the back of the couch. "I know it's not the newest or the best, but we should be done with this place pretty quickly."

"Which would be great," Billy returned, "but I'm still left on the couch while you two get the bed."

The Doctor turned around and fixed him with a stern, forbidding look. "_Rose_ gets the bed," he corrected. "I don't sleep. And Rose isn't sleeping on the couch."

"Doctor," Rose protested in a soft voice. "Maybe it's not fair that I-"

"No." The Doctor wasn't brooking any arguments on this one. "We can find a cot or something if we need to, but there's no space for another full-size bed even if we wanted one. And Rose's bedroom is hers alone," he finished.

Billy raised his hands in surrender. "Look, don't shoot me! I'm just saying that the couch is lumpy."

"We'll try to work something out in the morning." Rose looked at Billy with a sympathetic, pleading expression. She didn't want him to be upset, and she didn't want any discord.

"It's not a problem," Billy said finally. "As long as I get some privacy," he added. "Just because you don't sleep doesn't mean you can lurk around and watch me sleep."

"I don't lurk," the Doctor said indignantly. "I work on our project. The project to get us home."

"Time for bed!" Rose said cheerfully. "Good night, Billy! I'll let you have the bathroom first."

"Thanks." Billy headed for the bath. At least he had pajamas to sleep in.

"And you." Rose pointed at the Doctor.

"And me what?"

"Don't antagonize him, Doctor. It's hard enough without having you poke at him all the time."

The Doctor was honestly astounded. "Rose, I don't poke at him."

"Remember who he is. We need him, and we need to be nice to him because it's not right to be rude. Now, go hide in the kitchen. Don't read in here while he's sleeping, and don't try to watch the television in the middle of the night."

"There is no television in the middle of the night."

She snorted as she turned around and went back to her room. "There will be if you try to tinker with the air and soundwaves."

The flat was really stuffy, Rose noted as she closed the bedroom door. It didn't help when the door was shut. With the light still off, she drew back the curtains and opened the window. Sounds of the city came in at once, but only a very little breeze.

She sighed.

Out in the main part of the flat she heard Billy and the Doctor talking. She took the opportunity to go into the bath and get ready for the evening. She sincerely hoped that her feminine protection lived up to its name that night. She hadn't been able to bring herself to buy the maxi-pads with the required belt, and while the tampons were working, she couldn't help but think of Jackie's stories of the outbreak of Toxic Shock Syndrome. This was long before any of that was to happen, and Rose eyed the package of tampons that she'd bought. _Rely - we even absorb the worry_.

"That makes me feel so much better," she muttered.

She put on her pajamas, washed her face and brushed her teeth. Back in her room she listened to a half-audible conversation out on the street below. She heard Billy tell the Doctor that he could leave the room now, and heard Billy cursing as he tried to make his bed using the sheets from the night before. She didn't envy him sleeping on that couch.

* * *

The Doctor paused in his work and stretched. It was eleven minutes, fifteen seconds after midnight, and he was nearly done with his plans. Soon they would be able to record those messages that he would one day give to Sally Sparrow, and then they would get out of 1969 London, and he would get his TARDIS back.

He was grateful Billy had come to them, since he was apparently the one who would get them out of this mess. He was just annoyed that Billy, being human, required sleep and was therefore in the room that the Doctor had been using as a work area.

Not that the kitchen was comfortable, he admitted to himself with just a spot of sarcasm as he looked around. Small, rickety table to work on, tiny sink with a leaky faucet - what was _wrong_ with it that the sonic screwdriver couldn't fix? - no window to look out of. Not even a small pass-through window to look into the living room.

He hated it. He hated the kitchen, hated the flat. He hated this entire mess.

He stood up quickly, pushing the chair away from the table with enough force to make it tip over. He caught it before it crashed to the floor, righting it and cursing softly.

They were trapped here. As surely as he and Rose had been trapped on that space station, with the TARDIS gone and a black hole looming overhead, they were trapped here in 1969. He had only the promise that they could get back if he followed instructions written on a page. Instructions written by a girl he'd never met.

He wanted to be out of this mess _now_. Wanted to be back on his ship with Rose, traveling the stars and watching her laugh in delight. The feeling of suffocation, of helpless rage, was nearly overwhelming, and the effort it took for him to hide those feelings from Rose was killing him.

Suddenly the kitchen seemed much too small. The flat itself was tiny, an insult to the term "flat". He'd been living there for weeks now, pretending all was well, but a small part of him had been rebelling against it all along. He turned the light off and slowly eased the kitchen door open. Billy was asleep on the couch. The Doctor began to walk to the door when he heard a sound behind him.

Turning, he spied light coming through from beneath Rose's door. Concerned, he reversed direction and walked down the hallway to tap gently on the door.

"Rose?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

Rose had woken up from a disjointed dream where she lectured her grandmother on not smoking. Her grandmother, hugely pregnant, had just rolled her eyes and kept smoking, pausing occasionally to take a sip of diet Coke while on the television she watched men land on Mars and then explode.

Shaken by the dream, Rose turned on her lamp and walked around the room, pausing to idly swipe at the clutter of things she had on her dresser. Between the dream and the oppressive heat of the July night, it was hard to sleep or think.

The Doctor's voice took her by surprise, and she dove for the dressing gown that was lying on the floor.

"I'm fine!" she said quickly, tying the sash around her waist and opening the door. "Are you?"

He nodded. "I heard you in here. Seemed a bit late for you to be up."

Rose nodded in agreement. "Come in." She waited for him to pass by her into the room and closed the door.

"What were you doing?" she asked.

"I was working on our project. I was about to get some air when I saw the light under the door."

"Out where?" she questioned. He rarely talked about what he did at night when she was asleep.

"Just out." The Doctor peered out the open window, walked to the dresser and then absently opened and closed the wardrobe doors before sitting on the bed.

"Are you all right?"

He sighed, and suddenly he seemed like a different person to Rose. "This is hard. I'm not a very patient person, Rose."

She couldn't help but smile. That seemed like a massive understatement. "No?"

"No. I want to get back to the TARDIS immediately. I don't feel like waiting."

She sat down beside him, tying the sash on her dressing gown a little tighter. "I want to get back, too."

"But I want to get back _now_." The Doctor stood up again, pacing around the room. Rose watched him in the dim light. "I feel trapped here. There's nowhere to go!" He flung his arms wide to illustrate his point, knocking against the wardrobe in the process. "Ow! It's so small here. This room, this flat, this London. I'm suffocating, Rose."

Rose felt pity and sympathy for him. "I know it's got to be hard for you, Doctor. But...you were trapped here in London before, weren't you?"

He scowled. "I was. That was the Time Lords' doing. But sometimes I was able to get back. I hadn't completely lost the TARDIS. I could still travel sometimes. This is...this is different." He sat down on the bed beside Rose again. She could almost feel the pain running through him.

"It'll be okay." She spoke quietly, as though to a frightened child. "We'll get back. Everything is working out the way Sally said it would."

He scoffed out a disgusted breath. "Sally! What does she know? Things could have changed already. Any little thing we did could have altered the expected outcome. There's no guarantee, even with Billy here."

"Well, there have to be other ways. I could...I could call someone! I could call Shireen! Or Keisha, or..." Rose's voice trailed away as the Doctor waited for her to finish the sentence. "I could call someone and explain that I'm not really dead, but just stuck back in time," Rose finished. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that would go over well."

The Doctor smiled in spite of himself. "Your friends wouldn't be any help, anyway, Rose. They'd be no match against the Weeping Angels." He leaned back on the bed, resting on his elbows as he looked up thoughtfully at her. "They're incredibly powerful beings, and they have the TARDIS to protect now. I could use your phone to call Sarah Jane, but even that wouldn't do much good. Sarah and K-9 are brilliant - I don't doubt that they could find that house and the TArDIS with no problems at all. But the Angels will be guarding it and will take no chances. They'd send them back in time quicker than they could..." His voice trailed off as he heard what he was saying.

"Quicker than they could blink?" Rose suggested.

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to end the sentence that way. But they would. Or even worse, they'd figure out that Sarah Jane and K-9 might be able to gain access to the TARDIS, and that would truly be a disaster." He sighed and fell back all the way on the bed. "No, there's no other way than what we're doing."

"Well, at least we're on the right track," Rose said optimistically. Without really thinking about it, she lay down beside him. He turned his head to look at her, and she suddenly became aware of the heat of the night and of the thin fabric she was wearing.

For a long moment neither one said anything, content to just look at one another in the dark. An occasional car drove by, throwing light onto their faces for just a moment.

Without conscious effort or thought, the Doctor moved closer to Rose, raising himself up on his left elbow. She lay still, watching him. He touched her face, and Rose shifted closer as his fingers got tangled up in her hair.

He may have whispered her name, but she was beyond paying attention. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, holding his head against hers to keep him there.

She finally had to break away to gasp for breath. He let her breathe in a scant amount of air before kissing her again. He ceased to feel time as he kissed her, as she kissed him back and whispered nonsense words when she had to stop for breath.

Rose had waited a long time to do this again, and she kissed him enthusiastically. Somewhere along the way he lost what little control he had of the kiss, and she pushed him back and rolled on top of him. His hands freed themselves form her hair and moved to her back ,holding her tight against him.

There was not telling how far things might have gone if a very loud, very real, "Damn!" hadn't come in through the closed door. Startled, Rose jerked around and the Doctor quickly sat up. It took them both a few moments to figure out what had happened. Billy, on his way to the loo, had bumped into something in the dark.

"It's just Billy," Rose whispered, breathing hard.

The Doctor looked at her. "Just Billy," he echoed. "Damn him." He pulled Rose back to him, drawing her onto his lap and kissing her thoroughly once more.

"Doctor," she murmured, taking his hand and moving it to a place he very much wanted to explore. Her skin was soft through her nightgown, and it took all of his self control to remove his hand from the neckline of her nightgown, suddenly struck by a pang of conscience.

"Rose," he whispered. "Are you sure?"

She made a sound that couldn't be translated, but by the enthusiastic way she was moving against him he took it to be a good thing. His hands returned, running up and down her back as they kissed before pausing at the spot where her nightgown was riding up her thighs. He began to pull the material up. Rose shifted on his lap to help him, and he nearly lost all control and focus.

"Don't Stop," she whispered in his ear. "Don't you dare stop."

"I'm not stopping," he gasped, amazed that he was actually short of breath. He continued to yank the nightgown up, and then, of course, it happened.

A sudden jolt against the closed door sent them springing apart from each other like two guilty teenagers.

"What the hell?" Rose began.

The Doctor heaved a great sigh. "Billy." There was a world of loathing in his voice. "We need to find him someplace else to live. This is not the right time. We have company, and we're in this small flat..."

"I don't care." And she didn't, but she slowly moved away from him while he cursed himself for caring enough to want to make it seem real and not cheap and tawdry. Certain portions of his anatomy were heartily cursing him as well.

They heard Billy move back to his sofa, muttering to himself about something. Their eyes met again, and Rose actually felt herself blushing. She was glad it wasn't so obvious in the dark.

"I guess some things are better with just two."

He snorted. "You're telling me. The sooner we get him out of here the better. Anyway, it's late. You should get some sleep."

Rose raised her eyebrows. Did he really think she would sleep after this?

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft in the darkness. "Rose, I-"

"It's okay." Her voice was just as soft. "It's okay. We have all the time in the word, don't we?"

"That doesn't make me feel better right this minute," he responded sourly.

Despite herself, Rose chuckled. "I'll see you in the morning." After he'd closed the door behind him she sat down on the bed and covered her face with her hands. And then she started to laugh. Because if Billy alone wasn't an obstacle to their being together, it was also the wrong time of the month for her. And wasn't that just typical of their luck so far?


	27. Chapter 27

Thanks to all of you who have been following this story. I am going out of town for a few months, so Don't Blink will be put on hold until the end of February. Do not be alarmed - the story is finished - I just need to write it out. All questions and UST will be resolved, I promise.

* * *

Billy was making dinner when Rose got home. She was leafing through the post when she let herself in, and the unfamiliar smell of food cooking made her pause and look around. The Doctor, still at Cambridge and likely to be away for several more hours, couldn't be responsible. Not that he would ever cook, even when he was home.

Setting down the mail and her bag, Rose walked into the kitchen. She peered cautiously around the open door, not sure what she'd find. Billy was standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot. A loaf of bread sat on the table, which was set with three plates and glasses and a bottle of wine.

Rose stared and stared until Billy happened to turn around.

"You're home!"

"Yeah," she managed to say. "You're...you're cooking."

"Making dinner, yeah." Billy turned back to his pot. "Hope you like curry."

"Oh, I love it."

"Wasn't easy to get all the ingredients. Finally found this little Indian market for the spices. Can't wait for when London isn't afraid of foreign foods." He shook his head and lifted the lid off another pot on the back of the stove. "Rice is almost done. Should we wait for the Doctor?"

"I think he'll be late again." Rose spoke with some regret. The Doctor's new job at Cambridge required that he leave early and return late. She suspected that when he'd accepted the position, he hadn't been thinking about the fifty-mile distance to the college. The TARDIS would have made short work of that, but a Doctor without the TARDIS was on his own.

"Well, go wash your hands so we can eat. I'm not waiting around on him - I want to watch the news."

"You are becoming obsessed," she said in amusement, washing her hands at the sink.

"Come on! How often are we going to see the moon landing happen live?"

It was such a pleasant experience to sit down and have someone serve her dinner. Rose thoroughly enjoyed it, and couldn't help laughing at Billy's description of his day.

"So I'm at the shop down the street," he said as he poured himself another glass of wine. "I'm pretty focused on my shopping list, and I look up and see this bloke in a jumpsuit. A jumpsuit! It was baby blue and had a zip that started at his groin!"

Rose shrieked with laughter. "No! Was it unzipped down to his navel?"

"Almost. _And_ he had a gold medallion on." Billy sighed. "This is an ugly, ugly time. If I don't find some normal clothes I'll die of shame."

Rose glanced down furtively at her dress. It was lime green with a polo neck, and had bands of hot pink and bright blue around the short sleeves and hem. It was short but otherwise not so dated that she would look strange going back home to the estate.

"Yeah," she pointed out, helping herself to another large spoonful of curry, "but at least right now no one thinks you look weird."

"_I_ think I look weird. Speaking of weird," he added, "that landlady of yours is crazy! Every time I came up or down the stairs there she was by her door. Doesn't she ever come out of her flat? It's like she's a troll living under a bridge or something."

"She's out all the time. Maybe she's wondering if she should charge us extra rent for you," Rose mused worriedly.

"Or else she's unhappy because I'm black."

Rose gazed at him. "What?"

"I'm black. Maybe she doesn't like that."

It was such a foreign thought to Rose that she didn't know how to respond. Billy saw this and kept going.

"In this time...well, it's not easy. I don't expect I'd exactly have an easy time getting a badge again even if I wanted to."

"Then what will you do?"

"Become a movie guy, apparently." The thought didn't thrill him.

"Sometimes," Rose started, and then stopped, because it was something she'd never really talked about with anyone before.

"Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I wonder what time is like. Why it works the way it does. Sally Sparrow left us a message that said you were going to help us, and you're helping us. But did she leave the message because you helped us, or did you help us because she left the message?"

"Is that like the chicken or the egg?"

"Just because you're here doesn't mean you _have_ to do what Sally says you'll do."

"But what if I'm supposed to? And if I don't, you never get back?"

Rose sighed and slumped in her chair. "It's all so confusing. I used to have a friend who could think things through like that. He was a time agent, though. He was used to time being all twisty-turny."

Billy looked at her, puzzled. "What's a time agent?"

Rose smiled slowly. "Let me tell you about Captain Jack."


	28. Chapter 28

The University of Cambridge. Seat of learning. Established in the early 1200's. Francis Bacon. Sir Isaac Newton. The laws of motion. The discovery of hydrogen. The structure of DNA.

It was incredibly exciting, being around all that academia and prestige. Or at least, it ought to have been exciting. Under normal circumstances the Doctor would have enjoyed himself. He hadn't counted on his position, though. Being a research assistant was dead boring. He was expected to teach classes and grade papers _and_ do all the work for the professor he was assigned to.

That he could do with one hand tied behind his back, blindfolded. It just wasn't very stimulating, teaching courses that his people would have mastered at a much younger age than his current pupils.

He didn't mind the travel up to the college itself. He hopped on a train in the early hours of the morning, long before Rose or Billy were awake. He was home an hour or so after dinner those nights.

It was manageable. Certainly after being involved in countless wars and skirmishes, the hardships associated with commuting weren't even worth mentioning. It was not seeing Rose as often as he liked that he hated.

"I am an idiot," the Doctor said to himself. He was alone in the lab at the time, a stack of papers to be graded beside him. "A great, big idiot." He'd gone and gotten a job that required he be away from Rose until late at night, right when she was about to go to bed.

He missed her more than he was willing to admit.

"Hello! Smith? You still here?" A man with white hair and spectacles knocked on the open door before walking in. The Doctor stood up, smoothing down his suit jacket.

"Hello, Roger." He managed a nice smile for the head of the science department. The kindly old man held multiple degrees from various universities and commanded an enormous amount of respect wherever he went, but he preferred to be called by his given name.

"Just the man I wanted to see. Although," and here Roger glanced at his watch, "it's getting on to dinner time. Shouldn't you be heading home?"

The Doctor smiled a real smile this time. "Just getting ready to pack up. Can I help you with something? Come to rate me on my first week on the job?" He laughed as though the notion were absurd. Which it was, seeing as how he was brilliant.

"No, of course not. Wanted to introduce you to our newest faculty member! Drat, where'd he go?" Roger stepped back into the hallway. "Ian! Where are you, man? Oh, there you are."

"Sorry." A tall, dark-haired man entered the lab behind Roger. "Saw someone I went to school with." He looked from Roger to the Doctor.

"This is Ian," Roger said the to Doctor. "Ian, this is John Smith, one of our physics men. Working on his doctorate right now."

"Physics! Very nice. Nice to meet you. Ian Chesterton." Ian Chesterton held out his hand, and the Doctor took it automatically, without quite being aware that he was doing so.

"And you," the Doctor returned mechanically.

"We're very lucky to have Ian," Roger confided to the Doctor. "He took a two-year sabbatical from teaching to travel, and then he wrote a book."

"About, about your travels?" The Doctor dared to ask. He knew exactly where Ian had been traveling - would there be a book about time and space? With a time-traveling alien? Surely Ian wouldn't do that.

Ian shook his head with a slight smile. "When I got back, er, returned to London, I didn't want to go back to teaching. So I began researching, got a grant and wrote a book. Then I polished up my credentials to teach at the university level. That took up the past four years."

"And now he's back and ready to return! We're glad to have him in our department."

The Doctor nodded, not speaking. He couldn't take his eyes off of Ian. It was Ian, his Ian. Here was the first human he'd ever allowed on his TARDIS. Here was the last link he had to Susan. His Susan. A granddaughter that he should never have taken off of Gallifrey. But he had, and they had met Ian and Barbara, and Ian had known Susan, had actually known her, and spoken to her, and touched her.

And if the Doctor said any of this Ian would think he was mad, because as far as Ian was concerned, the Doctor was an old, crotchety man with a penchant for not listening. It had been just several years since Ian had said goodbye to the Doctor, and in that time the Doctor had lived nine other lives. How would Ian ever understand that?

Ian and Roger were talking, but the Doctor didn't hear any of it. He continued to stare at Ian, a painful drumming going on behind his temples.

_Ian and Barbara. Susan. Daleks and Robespierre. Marco Polo. Sensorites and Rome and Nero and the Animus. Susan. Oh, Susan, I just let you go. I left you and now you're gone._

"Don't you think so, John?" Roger asked, and the Doctor was jerked out of his reverie.

"Yes," he said immediately, without knowing what he was agreeing to. "Yes."

"Thought so!" Roger looked very satisfied.

The Doctor nodded, still looking at Ian and wondering, for the countless time, if he had been wrong in locking Susan out of the TARDIS, forcing her to stay with a man they barely knew. He should have let her in, should have taken her with him.

But then she would have gone to Gallifrey with him, at the end, of course she would have. And she would be dead.

But she was dead still, a voice taunted him inwardly. She died when the Time Lords died, and it didn't matter where or when in time she was. Susan was gone, and he was alone, and the pain was too much to bear. That was why he never thought about it, why he forbade Rose from asking questions. It was just too hard.

_"Grandfather, can we stay a while?"_

_ "Eh? Stay where?"_

_ "Here. On Earth. I think I'd like to go to school."_

_ "You want to go to school! Here? They don't the first thing about anything, these humans!"_

_ "Please, Grandfather! Please! You need to repair the TARDIS anyway! I can go to school and pretend to be a human girl."_

_ "Ridiculous. We're Time Lords! These humans are beneath us."_

_ "Well, I'd like to just the same."_

_ "If you really want to, child, then you may. But only until I repair the ship!"_

_ "Thank you, Grandfather!"_

Roger was speaking but the Doctor didn't hear any of it. Caught up in memories that he usually repressed, he couldn't follow the conversation. Seeing Ian was too much of a shock.

"You're working on your doctorate, Mr. Smith?" Ian asked, and the Doctor forced himself back.

"Yes. Chaos theory."

Ian looked taken aback. "Chaos theory. That's not a very popular discipline, is it?"

"No, not yet. But it will be."

"Mr. Smith is quite clever," Roger said. "Some of his earlier works are genius."

"Thank you," the Doctor said, trying for a measure of modesty and probably failing.

"I look forward to reading some of your work," Ian said. "In the meantime, I must be going."

"Ah, yes. You're a family man now, yes?"

Ian smiled at the faint mockery in Roger's voice. "Yes." He pulled a photo out of his billfold and offered it to the Doctor. A black and white snap of Barbara, holding a small infant.

"His name's John," Ian said proudly. "That's my wife, Barbara. She teaches, too, but not just now, obviously. She helped me with my book."

"A lovely family," the Doctor said.

"I'll be off," Ian said, tucking the snap back into his pocket. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith. I look forward to working with you."

"Good seeing you again," the Doctor replied automatically, still stunned to see him. Ian turned to look at him quizzically, and he quickly amended his words. "Good to see you, I mean. Good meeting you. By the way, what is your specialty, Mr. Chesterton?"

Ian smiled. "Astronomy. I've developed quite a love for space in the past few years."

"A good man," Roger said after Ian had gone. "Bit of a mystery, but nice enough, eh?"

Before the Doctor could respond, someone poked his head into the room.

"Roger!" he said in an urgent whisper, stepping inside. "Did I just see-" his voice lowered even more - "Ian Chesterton?"

"You did, Paul. That was him." Roger sighed as if he were saddened by the admission.

"Well?" Paul all but danced up and down in impatience. "What did he say?"

The Doctor came out of his reverie long enough to study the newcomer. He looked to be in his fifties, a distinguished - looking man with grey hair and a custom suit. He did not appear to be the type of person to indulge in gossip, and yet apparently he was doing exactly like that.

"Nothing, really. Just that he'd been on sabbatical."

"Sabbatical!" Paul snorted. "Is that what he's calling it?"

Roger glanced at the Doctor. "You'll be hearing the stories soon enough, I'm afraid. Ian Chesterton is a bit of a mystery down in London. He left his teaching position one day, just walked out of the school and never returned. He and his wife, in fact. Not married then, of course. Disappeared for two or three years! Then they showed up again in London acting as if nothing had happened." He shook his head.

"It was in all the papers," Paul added. "Shocking. And now you have him. I'm surprised he was hired."

"His recent works on time and space were very interesting. We can use someone like him. I imagine it will be all right."

Paul shook his head. "Let me know if you find out anything else. My money is on them spending all that time in the Virgin Islands."

"Who," the Doctor asked after he'd gone, "was that?"

Roger heaved a sigh. "Paul Landsdowne. Dean of Mathematics. Brilliant man, but a bit of a gossip, I'm afraid. Not very seemly in his position, but there you are."

The Doctor nodded. Humans.

Sitting on the train on the way home, he found himself lost in his thoughts. He didn't often think about the life he'd left behind. In fact, he tried very hard to never do so. But seeing Ian had rocked him in a way that seeing Sarah Jane had not. Perhaps it was because so much time had passed since Ian and Barbara had left him. So many experiences and changes. They'd been his first companions, back when he'd wanted none. And here he was, stranded on Earth with his current companion.

The thought of Rose made him smile, and the vision of her smiling face cleared away the cobwebs from his brain. Ian and Barbara were married and happy. They had a child! How glad he was that they were well. And with that thought, he was able to say goodbye to his memories again, if only for a short while. He may never come to terms with his past, but at least he was able to move on.

Even so...

Would he be able to work with Ian? What would Ian do, if the young man working with him revealed himself to be the Doctor?

Ah, well. Time enough to worry about that, wasn't there?

With that in mind, he was able to look around and take note of his surroundings. The train to London wasn't packed at this time of night. People sat in seats, smoking or reading the paper or chatting to their neighbors. He coughed slightly as a stream of cigarette smoke drifted his way. Why humans persisted in doing that to their lungs he would never know.

Shifting in his seat, his attention was caught by a young woman sitting across from him. There was nothing very extraordinary about her. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was dressed professionally, if somewhat plainly, in a brown tweed jacket and matching skirt. As the Doctor fixed his gaze upon her, he was startled to see a faint yellow glow emanating from her head. As he watched, startled, the glow grew brighter and spread down over her shoulders. As he leaned forward in fascination, the girl glanced his way. Just then someone stepped in front of him, and when his line of sight was clear the glow was gone. Soon after the next stop was reached, and she stepped off the train without a backwards glance.

The Doctor hastily leaned back in his seat. He didn't want to look like someone who gawked after young girls.

The flat smelled like curry. He used the sonic screwdriver to unlock the door, locking it again behind him as he closed it. Rose and Billy were laughing.

"Doctor, is that you?" Rose's voice called.

"I'm home!" He tossed his briefcase onto a chair and followed the noise to the kitchen. Rose and Billy were sitting at the table, empty plates in front of them and cups of tea in their hands.

"There you are!" Rose jumped up to give him a hug.

"Hi." He hugged her tightly, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Over Rose's head he caught sight of Billy watching them in amusement. The Doctor cleared his throat and straightened his tie as Rose stepped away.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"I'll get it!" Billy carried the empty plates to the sink. "I made a curry," he explained over his shoulder, dishing some up onto a new plate. "Have a seat."

The Doctor made all kinds of appreciative noises as he ate. "This is terrific!"

"Isn't it?" Rose sat back down across from him. "Billy's a genius." She watched him take a gulp from her teacup and refilled it for him. "How was work."

He paused with his fork in his mouth. "Good," he said when he'd finished chewing and swallowing. "Uneventful. Same old teaching and grading."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

He nodded, avoiding her questioning gaze. "How about you, Billy? What did you do today?"

"Looked for a job. Turns out I'm not qualified without any identification or experience. Plus, the fact that I'm black seems to bother certain people."

"We'll get you the proper papers," the Doctor promised. "Won't take me but a few minutes. So." He looked at them expectantly. "What were you two laughing about?"

Billy smirked. Rose smiled.

"Oh, I was just telling him about the time you and Jack were trapped in that little house with no doors, and Jack had to take off his -"

"Good grief," the Doctor muttered. "Will I never live that down?"

Billy laughed even harder.

After the dishes were washed and dried and put away, Rose excused herself to change out of her work clothes. As she was pulling on a soft pair of slacks - not polyester, because that seemed to make her skin break out - she heard a knock on the door. Buttoning up a blouse, she headed back to the living room. Jeff was sitting on the couch, chatting with Billy and the Doctor.

"Hi, Jeff." Rose sat down beside the Doctor, who had to shift to make room for her but didn't seem to mind.

"I was just inviting you guys to come over and watch the moon landing tomorrow night," Jeff told her. "It's going to be an all-nighter."

"That sounds like fun!" Rose looked at the Doctor for confirmation. He nodded. Billy was more enthusiastic.

"We'd love to."

"Excellent! My flat's a bit larger." Jeff glanced around critically. Even though Rose had hung pretty curtains at the windows and bright pictures on the wall, there was no disguising the fact that the flat was on the small side. "So a few friends will be over, too. Should be quite a time!" He paused and looked at Billy in puzzlement.

"You're staying here, aren't you?"

Billy nodded cautiously, not sure what Jeff was after.

"Well, er, where do you sleep? In here?"

Billy nodded towards the couch. "Right there."

"It's a squeeze," the Doctor said easily, "but it's temporary."

"Hmm." Jeff was lost in thought for a moment. "You know that Mrs. MacMurray has a storage unit in the basement? Sometimes people move out and leave things behind. I bet there's a cot down there."

Billy jumped up. "Let's go. That thing is damed uncomfortable."

They trooped out of the flat in single file, Billy following Jeff.

"I didn't think the couch was that uncomfortable," the Doctor murmured to Rose as he closed the door behind them.

"You don't sleep on it," she reminded him.

Jeff had stopped at the landlady's door. "Just need to get the key," he explained. "Hello!" He grinned at Mrs. MacMurray. "Mind if I borrow the key to storage? I need a few chairs for the moon landing."

Mrs. MacMurray opened the door and smiled at them. "Well, hello! Isn't it exciting? I can't believe men will actually step on the moon." She dug around in the pockets of her pink and yellow housecoat. "Here you are. I was just locked up down there. Isaac Hastings left without a word, can you imagine? I had to take care of all of his things."

"Isaac?" Rose interrupted. "Isaac from down the hall? We just met him."

"Didn't even pay his rent for the month. No family at all, apparently, but I put his belongings in the basement just in case. Help yourself, Jeff."

"Thanks, Mrs. M. I'll bring the key back to you."

"That's so weird," Rose said on the way to the storage room. "I mean, we just met Isaac and know he's gone."

"What so weird about that?" Billy wanted to know. "People disappear all the time. Sometimes it's not even their own fault." He shot a look at the Doctor, who stared after him in open-mouthed indignation.

"As if the Weeping Angels were my fault!"

Jeff glanced back at them. "The Weeping what?"

"Nothing," Rose said quickly. "Just an old joke. You know how it is."

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

Jeff unlocked a door and switched on a light. A short flight of stairs led to another locked door. When he'd unlocked the second door and turned on another light, he propped the door open to make room for the others.

"_This _is storage for old belongings?" The Doctor was incredulous. "Look at all of this!"

Billy was equally amazed. "Beds, chairs, lamps, boxes. It could be a furniture store!"

Furniture was stacked up along all four walls: chairs, tables, even a bed frame or two. Sealed boxes were everywhere. Picture frames leaned up against the boxes and beside old lamps and various vases, pillows and bookcases.

"Some of this stuff looks pretty old." Jeff blew the dust off of a picture frame. The couple in the photo wore fifties-era clothing.

The Doctor slipped on his glasses. "This is just unreal."

"Ah! I knew I'd seen a cot down here!" Jeff was wrestling a fold-away bed from a corner of the room. "I borrowed a lamp from here when I first moved in," he explained. "Mrs. MacMurray doesn't mind."

"Awesome." Billy took the bed, ignoring the dust and praying that there was nothing alive in the mattress.

"Here, John. Give me a hand with a couple of chairs?"

The Doctor, busy peering inside a box, did not respond to his assumed name. Rose had to nudge him.

"What?" he asked in surprise.

She inclined her head in Jeff's direction. "Grab a chair."

He sighed and grabbed two. Billy needed both hands for his bed, and Rose managed to wrestle one out of the room. Jeff delivered the key back to Mrs. MacMurray, who accepted his thanks with an offer of freshly baked scones and tea.

The scones were cream and the tea was delicious. Mrs. MacMurray son showed herself to be one of those women who liked to know all the details about the young people she watched over, as she put it. By the time they'd revealed that Rose and the Doctor had no other family, and that Billy's family was far away in Jamaica, Rose was ready to call it a night.

"I'm ready for bed," she announced as soon as they were back in the flat, Jeff and his chairs delivered to his flat. "Billy, good luck with that cot. I'd shake out the mattress if I were you."

"Don't worry." The Doctor produced the sonic screwdriver. "This will drive away anything living in there."

Billy looked from the sonic screwdriver to his new bed with a pained expression.

"Make sure whatever's driven out doesn't stay alive in the flat," Rose warned him. "Or else."

"Or else what?" the Doctor wanted to know.

"Or else," she repeated in dire tones.

"Man," Billy commented once Rose had disappeared into the bedroom. "You have it bad."

The Doctor tore his eyes away from the direction Rose had gone, a goofy grin still on his face.

"What?"

"You have it bad." Billy unfolded the cot. "She does, too. Both of you go around with smiles on your faces and you can't keep your eyes off of each other. And you're not even sharing the same room with her."

"I, she, we," the Doctor sputtered.

Billy held up a hand. "Whatever the two of you get up to, or don't get up to, it's your business. Just bring that screwdriver thing over and kill anything that's living in this mattress."


	29. Chapter 29

July 20, 1969

Rose woke up that Saturday to a bedroom filled with sunlight. Summer in London was bright and warm, and she smiled at the thought of getting to enjoy the weekend.

She took a long shower and got dressed in her room, doing her hair and makeup. It was rare for her to go so long without the Doctor yelling for her - he always insisted on seeing her as soon as she awoke - and she thought that was strange. She could hear voices in the flat. Not that she minded having a long stretch of time to herself. She found out what was going on when she finally left her room. Billy and the Doctor were seated in front of the television, avidly taking in the coverage of the upcoming moon landing.

"Haven't you had enough of that already?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.

"No," Billy answered without looking away from the screen. "This is history in the making!"

Rose agreed, of course, but she found the coverage to be overwhelming at times. When she found herself watching Ian McKellan and Judi Dench reciting poetry and quotes about the moon, she'd decided she'd had enough for a while.

"It's been quite the experience," the Doctor added, glancing up at Rose as she came over to stand beside them. "I was just telling Billy that we have the Pink Floyd song i_Moonhead/i_ to look forward to. It's never been officially released, you know."

Rose smirked. "Goodness, how exciting! Are you two gonna sit there all day?" From the look of the room, they'd been up early and had already had breakfast and several snacks. She'd have to bring the hoover in to remind them to clean up.

"Not all day." Billy spoke absently, his attention on the screen. Clearly the two of them weren't going anywhere.

"Well, I have things to do this morning," Rose said firmly.

"We understand." The Doctor took a huge swallow from his own up of tea before glancing up. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about us."

"I wasn't," she assured him. "See you later."

She didn't leave right away. There was her room to straighten, the bathroom to tidy up, and her clothes to clean. She put a load of laundry in the small washer in the kitchen. It was painfully slow but at least it got her things clean. Rose ignored the small baskets that contained the Doctor's and Billy's things. They could do their own laundry.

She left the kitchen the way it was, with tea bags strewn on the sink and bread and butter on the table. She hadn't made the mess, so why should she clean it up? Really, sometimes she could see why her old Doctor had been so adamantly against domestic life. Day in, day out like this it could get tedious.

But only if she let it. It was a gorgeous summer day, and Rose left the flat in high spirits. The sun was shining and people just seemed happier. If the two men in her life wanted to sit inside and stare at moon landing coverage, they were welcome to it.

"I'm going!" she called, and was gone before they could stop her. She ran down the steps, already anticipating the warmth of the morning. As she opened the door to step outside, the postman grabbed the door to come inside.

"Whoops!" Rose stepped aside. "Good morning, Joe."

"Morning, Rose!" Joe grinned at her. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"It is. Where've you been?" Rose asked. "I haven't seen you all week."

"Went on holiday! Just me and the missus. Haven't been anywhere since we were married."

"Did you have a good time?"

"Oh, the best! Wish I had time for more than one week, but there's the bills to pay. Let me get your post for you." Joe began rifling through a sheaf of envelopes in his hand. "I want to finish up in good time today. Got that moon landing to watch."

"Oh, I can't wait," Rose said. "Should be exciting."

"Here you are." Joe handed over her post. "Very exciting! Enjoy your Saturday."

"Bye!"

As she walked down the street Rose was reminded once again of just how eclectic the fashion of this time period was. Bell-bottomed jeans and tie-dyed shirts, long hair and beards that really needed to be trimmed, ratty sandals and trainers could be seen all over the place. But there were also people still dressing in suits and two-pieces, with proper shoes and hats. Rose found it amazing that there could be such a difference in the way people dressed.

It reminded her of Iris, who always wore matching shoes and tights with her proper, modest dresses and skirts. Rose liked Iris very much, but sometimes she absolutely yearned to force her into something more trendy and suitable for her age.

Rose was busily composing several new outfits for her coworker when a car horn interrupted her thoughts. Breaking free of images of micro-minis and white, knee-high, patent leather boots, Rose looked around. A taxi was parked by the street. The driver leaned over and waved.

"Hullo, Rose Tyler! Can I give you a ride anywhere?"

She peered into the car. She didn't recognize the driver, but he wore a hoop earring and had a stuffed parrot perched on the dashboard. She smiled.

"You a Corubulan driver, by any chance?"

"Would any other cab driver know who you are?"

"Fair enough." Rose opened the back door and settled in. "Thanks for stopping."

"Of course!" He tapped the visor above his head, and Rose looked up to see a snap of her and the Doctor stuck there. "We still have a standing order for you two. We won't forget what you did for us?"

"Well, thanks." Rose felt a bit awkward accepting thanks for something that the Doctor deserved most of the credit for, but she certainly wasn't going to turn down a free ride. "So, what's your name?"

"You can call me Alan." He pulled back into the traffic. "My real name doesn't exactly translate into English."

Without the TARDIS Rose didn't understand foreign languages, something brought home to her frequently when she encountered tourists from France, Italy and other places. She hadn't realized how much she would miss understanding anyone who spoke to her. It was a far cry form her shock and disbelief at first learning that the mysterious Doctor's time traveling machine had gotten into her head without asking.

Of course, the fact that she'd been about to watch the demise of Earth may have had something to do with her feelings at the time.

"You're speaking English now, though, aren't you?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Of course." Alan slowed down for a stoplight. "We all learned English before we came down. Seemed the polite thing to do. Now. Where can I take you, Rose Tyler? You off to do the weekly shopping?"

"Actually," Rose said slowly, "I need to go somewhere a bit further out from here."

* * *

It had taken her some time with a phone directory to figure out where to go. She'd been uncertain of the exact location, and indeed, she still wasn't certain if she was going to the right place. But she had to try.

"Here it is." Alan started to slow down as he pulled up to a row of houses, but Rose shook her head.

"Could you go a little farther down and let me out? I'm going to walk around a bit, first."

"Anything for you." Alan found a spot to park the car and watched as Rose got out. "I'll wait for you, eh?"

"Yes, please. Thanks!"

He pulled out a newspaper. "Take your time."

Rose hitched her handbag onto her shoulder and started slowly down the street, eyeing the numbers on the houses. She had not seen these houses since she was very small, and she couldn't be sure that she was in the right neighborhood, let alone the right street.

A few people were outside, women in housecoats sweeping the walk, men standing around in small groups, smoking. Rose ignored them all and pretended to just be walking down the street on the way to someplace else. When she reached number twenty-five, she slowed down just a bit.

As she wondered what to do now, the front door opened, and a tall man with sandy hair stepped out. Rose caught her breath. She had never met this man, but she had seen his photograph many times.

Following on the man's heels was a small boy with lighter hair, and Rose took a hasty step back, suddenly afraid of what might happen if they saw her.

"Wait for me!" the boy cried, and the man turned around and grinned.

"You want to come along? Hurry up, then, Petey!"

Rose had looked in on the child who would grow up to be her mother a few times now, taking care to never be noticed. Until today she hadn't had the nerve to go looking for her father. Her knowledge of her dad's family wasn't very good - she knew much more about her mum's family because she'd grown up with them. Pete's parents had died before his marriage to Jackie, and Rose had only seen photos of them.

She watched her grandfather - his name was Reggie - stride off down the street. Petey ran after him, catching up in time to grab his father's hand and laugh.

Rose watched them walk away. Were they going to the shops? To the park? Were they thinking about the fact that this was a beautiful day they would never get back?

In less than ten years Reggie would be dead, and Pete in less than twenty. Rose was beginning to understand why the Doctor found it so hard to stay in one place for long. Stay too long and you had to watch people you cared about begin to wither and die.

* * *

Rose finished brushing her hair and examined her reflection carefully. Her blouse was gauzy white and embroidered with flowers along the low, square neckline. Her brown trousers had matching embroidery on the back pockets. She looked pretty cute, she had to admit. Maybe not as cute as she'd look if she were wearing something from her actual, modern-time wardrobe, but some of these old fashions were really starting to grow on her.

"Rose!" the Doctor bellowed from the front of the flat. "Are you ready or not? Let's go!"

For someone who continued to insist that he absolutely did not do domestic, he was certainly sounding like it. "Coming!" she called, rolling her eyes as she applied some last-minute lipstick. "Men. Can't stand to wait a minute."

When she emerged from the bath she found the Doctor and Billy standing by the door, looking at her accusingly.

"Do you have the food?" she asked, taking the higher ground by not addressing their pouts.

"Yes, we have the nibbles," the Doctor said impatiently. "Come on, then! History in the making!"

"Did you have to wear the suit?" she couldn't help asking. They'd been over and over this loads of times, but he refused to admit that a prolonged stay here in 1969 would wear out the fabric on his beloved suit. So far his loving attentions with the sonic screwdriver had kept it in tip-top shape, but she feared it was only a matter of time before the threads began to break down.

"It's an important occasion," he informed her as he opened the door. "It warrants the suit."

"You look very nice tonight," Billy offered as he took up the rear and closed the door behind them.

"Thanks," Rose and the Doctor answered together. The Doctor looked behind him. Billy was clearly speaking to Rose, and only to Rose. He frowned and moved back to take Rose's hand.

"Here we go, then," he said, giving Billy a stern look.

Billy smirked.

Jeff's flat was just a floor away. Within a few feet of the door they could hear the sound of people talking and laughing. It was indeed a historic event for the world, and London was doing its part to celebrate it.

Jeff swung the door open at Rose's knock. How he managed to hear it she couldn't figure out, since the front room was jammed with people.

"Welcome!" Jeff said cheerfully. "Come on in!"

"We brought some food." Billy handed him the tray. "It's chicken satay sticks with peanut sauce."

Jeff stared at the tray and then at Billy for a long moment, clearly working out what he should say. "Sounds delicious," he finally said. "Can't wait to try it! Come on in." He moved to set the tray down in his kitchen, where they would be overlooked in favor of opened packets of crisps and bowls of peanuts.

"I told you he wouldn't know what they were," the Doctor murmured to Billy.

"I can try," Billy said with a stubborn look that the Doctor was getting to know very well.

"Have a seat!" Jeff waved an arm at the room. People were sitting and standing around, all talking and looking as wide awake as if it wasn't nearly midnight on July 20, 1969. In the center of the room Jeff's television was turned to BBC1, which was broadcasting the moon landing in its entirety and would actually be broadcasting all night for the first time.

"My set's a color one," Jeff said, "but this will have to be in black and white. Too bad we couldn't see it all in color! I have beer and Cokes in the kitchen, and the kettle's on for tea if you want." Jeff glanced at a clock on the wall. "Have fun!"

"Why are we watching in black and white if his tv is a color set?" Billy asked in a low voice.

"BBC1 won't have color broadcasting until later this year," answered Rose, who'd heard more about the subject than she'd cared to in the past few weeks.

The Doctor smiled at her approvingly. "You've been listening!"

"Well, yeah." She blushed under his gaze, and Billy rolled his eyes and headed for the food.

The kitchen was packed with people, and he had to muscle his way to the table. Surveying the offerings of crisps, sausages and random fruit, he felt a wave of nostalgia for his mum's party food. Without even closing his eyes he could perfectly envision the pristine lace tablecloth she spread over her table, and the shining silver trays of food she would set out before a party. Vol-au-vents, cheese puffs, delicate pastries and fragile cups of tea. He felt a wave of longing for his mother, for his life, and wanted very badly to return to it.

After a moment the feelings faded. They didn't pass completely, but they faded away to the point where he could function without yelling his head off like a lunatic, which is what he'd wanted to do the first few days in this time and place. Billy reached over and grabbed one of his chicken satay sticks, plunking it on a plate and then reaching for the peanut sauce.

"What is that?" a voice asked curiously.

Billy looked around. Beside him a young woman with dark blonde hair was staring at his plate in fascination. She was close enough that Billy could make out the freckles on her nose. When she raised her eyes to his he saw that they were blue. Her lashes were only slightly darker than her hair, and unlike most of the women he'd met so far in 1969, she had not caked her face in makeup.

"It's a chicken satay stick," Billy explained. "Just chicken on a stick, really."

"And that stuff?" She nodded to the sauce.

"Peanut sauce."

She wrinkled her nose. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Billy said, offended now. "Seriously."

"I knew Jeff was odd, but I didn't think it extended to his food." She smiled wryly and then held out her hand. "I'm Sarah."

He had to set the sauce down and shift the plate to shake it. "Billy. You a friend of Jeff's?"

"Not really. I came with a friend. You?"

"I live downstairs right now with some mates. He invited us over."

Sarah reached for a handful of crisps. "Well, have fun."

"Do you want to try one?" Billy asked impulsively. He held out his plate. "Take a bite. Go on." When she didn't move he added, "I dare you."

She picked up the stick, her expression daring him to say anything. She cautiously took a bite.

"That's not bad."

"Try the sauce," he urged, like he was an anxious mother trying to feed a picky eater.

Sarah dipped the chicken in the peanut sauce, and her eyes lit up when she tasted it. "That's delicious!"

Billy glowed with pleasure. "Thanks."

"You made it?" she asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought a bloke would be any good in the kitchen."

"Not all blokes," he corrected her. "Just very, very good blokes."

She gave him a slow smiled before setting the chicken on his plate and stepping away. "I'll remember that."

He was still staring off into space when Rose tugged on his sleeve. "What are you doing in here? You've been gone for over half an hour."

Billy blinked himself out of his reverie. "Just menu planning."

"Well, I'm not objecting to that," she said humorously. "You're too good a cook. Come on, the broadcast is getting good."

"I'm coming." Billy followed her out, but not before loading more food onto his plate.

"I just don't believe that Isaac would leave town like that," a man was saying as Rose walked by. "He wouldn't leave all his things behind."

Rose glanced around. Jeff was standing with a small group of men, most of whom were frowning. The one talking had a stubborn look on his face.

"He worked too hard to get where he is to just walk away," he continued. "And he wouldn't leave without saying anything to me - I'm the only family he had."

Rose stopped to listen, causing Billy to almost smash his plate against her back.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Shh!"

Rose listened long enough to learn that the man talking and Isaac had grown up in a children's home together and were both orphans. She would have liked to ask more questions, but Billy, exasperated by her actions, took her arm and gently pushed her back to the Doctor.

"I was learning something!" she protested irritably.

"What? How to be an eavesdropper?"

"There's something weird about how our neighbor vanished! You're a cop - don't you care?"

Billy sighed. "I'm not a cop anymore, am I?"

The Doctor tore himself away from the television coverage. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Rose?"

"Rose is playing private investigator," Billy said.

"What's the story now, Lewis?" the Doctor couldn't help asking, and Rose glared at both of them.

"I'm going to get a drink."

"Nothing for me, thanks," called the Doctor.

Rose went looking for the man who was worried about Isaac, but he had moved and the flat was crammed with people. Giving up, she snagged two bottles of Coke from the kitchen and headed back where the Doctor was engrossed in television coverage that he surely must have seen before.

The BBC had built a set just for the moon landing coverage. The news anchors were seated behind a long, angled desk. Behind the desk hung large models of the Earth and the moon, and there was a large picture of a rocket against a dark background that the BBC clearly was hoping looked like outer space but to Rose looked only a bit odd and out of place. In front of the desk was a digital clock that had counted the time down to lift-off and other aspects of the space journey.

The news anchors, James Burke, Cliff Michelmore and Patrick Moore, were all looking excited, having finally reached the most exciting part of the news coverage.

"They can barely contain themselves," the Doctor commented to Rose as she sat beside him on a tiny sofa. "Just look at James Burke! Soon he'll be jumping up and down."

"Well, they've had over a week to get to this point. I'm excited, too." She snuggled in close beside him, and he put his arm around her shoulders. Billy sat in an empty chair a few feet away, balancing his plate. Rose wished she had thought to grab some snacks, but she was too comfortable with the Doctor's arm around her to want to move.

"I'm just relieved he's not wearing that astronaut suit anymore," the Doctor admitted, taking a Coke from Rose. "That just smacked of trying too hard, didn't it?"

"Nothing's happening yet!" someone yelled from the depths of another room. "Let's play a game!"

Clearly there was too much alcohol involved, the Doctor reflected some time later. How else to explain how a group of otherwise reasonable adults ended up creating their own Martian costumes? How else to explain how he ended up wearing one of them?

"Man, what I wouldn't do for a camera right now," Billy smirked.

The Doctor swiped at his head, where a lampshade festooned with knotted dishtowels rested. "This is the most ridiculous moon-landing party ever. The Queen's coronation was much more subdued."

"Yeah, but not as fun," Rose reminded him.

"You're not the one wearing a costume!"

Eventually the alcohol wore off, and as the time drew nearer to the actual moon landing, people were drawn back to the television set.

Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon for the first time at 3:56 am. As he started taking steps the room exploded into cheers, applause, and excited chatter.

The images were very familiar to Rose, as were Armstrong's famous first words on the moon. She looked around the room. Everyone's attention was focused on the television. Even Billy's attention was totally taken up by what was happening on the television. The Doctor glanced her way and grinned, and she grinned back, two people sharing an incredible secret. She knew now why the Doctor loved to travel, knew now how it felt. He had been to an event and seen it happen, and now he got to experience it through the eyes of others, and she got to experience it, too.

He reached over and took her hand, gently drawing her closer to him.

"Do you see?" he murmured in her ear. "Do you see why I love it?"

His breath caressed her cheek and made little shivers dance down her spine. Her eyes drifted shut.

"I do," she whispered back.

He moved in closer, and as she opened her eyes again and turned her head, he leaned down and kissed her. All around them were the excited sounds of history in the making. Rose shifted to face him as his hands slid into her hair and kissed him back.

"Do you see?" he whispered again. "Can you see how much -"

She should have waited to hear what he was going to say. In the morning she would surely kick herself for not doing so. But she only smiled and kissed him back.


	30. Chapter 30

I will be taking a short hiatus from writing, per the request of Real Life. Thank you all so much for staying with this fic and reviewing it. I promise that it is outlined and completed, and I will resume posting as soon as I can.

* * *

The Doctor arrived at Cambridge Monday morning with a renewed sense of purpose. Watching the moon landing as a passive observer had reminded him that he had a TARDIS to rescue. The thought of those Weeping Angels clustered around it, trying to get inside, made him determined to thwart their efforts. He had a sound plan and knew just what to do to set things up in order for Sally Sparrow to help them.

But in the meantime, he had a department meeting to attend. Normally he adored any sort of meeting or get-together. You never knew when an alien in hiding might reveal itself, or some other catastrophe come up that needed averting. Those kinds of things were very entertaining.

Faculty meetings - they were the exact opposite of entertaining. Was there anything worse than a room full of academics gathered to discuss their own brilliant work? The Doctor didn't think so. Individually these people were perfectly acceptable, but place them around one table and he was forcibly reminded why he'd run away from Gallifrey in the first place. Stuffy, uptight, self-righteous people were no fun to be around, and it didn't matter what species they were.

Meetings at UNIT used to be like this, too, come to think if it.

He took a seat at the conference table and helped himself to a pastry sitting in the middle of the table. The pastries were the only thing that made these meetings worth attending. As each faculty member came in, the Doctor amused himself by wondering which one was a potential Slitheen. Perhaps they weren't heavy enough to be a Slitheen in hiding, but one never knew.

When everyone had finally drifted in, the Doctor settled down and allowed his thoughts to drift to Rose.

She'd fallen asleep on the couch while watching the rest of the moon landing coverage. Some guests had fallen asleep as well. Others had left to go home. Billy had fallen asleep sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. At last the Doctor had decided to leave him there and had ushered Rose, in a half-awake, half-asleep mode, back to the flat and into her bed. She'd made no protest and slept until Sunday afternoon.

They'd acted like everything was normal that Sunday, and it had been a relief, in a way, to have Billy around to act as a buffer. This morning he'd left before dawn while she was still asleep. He would never admit to being a coward, but even though he had kissed her - and she had kissed him back! - he wasn't ready for what could or would happen next.

He wondered if she knew what he'd been about to tell her when she'd kissed him.

He wondered if she could ever believe him.

"Everyone here?" Roger, the head of the department, looked around the table as his assistant shut the door. "Who are we missing?"

No one admitted to being missing, so he cleared his throat and consulted a piece of paper.

"Very well. Happy Monday to all of you." He nodded impartially to the men seated around the table, and they all nodded back. "Just a few brief bits of business..."

The Doctor tuned him out and looked around the table. Ian Chesterton sat across from him, and he had to visibly force himself not to stare too long. Beside Ian was someone that the Doctor didn't know, and he was just wondering who it was when Roger addressed that same question.

"Smith, you arrived right after Frost here left on holiday. Frost teaches biology. Frost, our newest hire."

Frost, a man in his fifties with thinning white hair smiled and stood to extend his hand. "I'm Peter Frost."

The Doctor stood as well and shook his hand. "Hello! I'm the Doctor." He caught his mistake the moment he said it, and saw Ian looking at him curiously. "The doctoral candidate," he corrected hastily. "One of the, er, doctoral candidates." He heard himself stumbling over his words and sighed. "Nice to meet you." He sat down, cursing himself as the meeting continued. He pretended to look at his copy of the agenda and take notes, but his mind was not on whatever issue needed to be discussed.

He glanced at Ian out of the corner of his eye, but Ian appeared focused on the conversation. If he'd thought anything was odd about the Doctor's name, he didn't look it. And why would he think to make the connection between his Doctor and this man who worked with him? His Doctor had been old, and Ian had never been told about the Time Lord habit of regeneration.

The chemistry chair was speaking now, and his words caught the Doctor's attention. It was just a brief comment about extended travel, but it was clearly directed at Ian. Ian's lips tightened momentarily, but that was the only indication that he'd heard. Someone else took up the discussion, and the talk was diverted back to the agenda.

He'd never wondered what happened to his companions after they'd left him. _Liar_, a small voice said inside his head. _You tried not to think about Susan, but you did. You did, too often. Until you killed them all and it didn't matter anymore._

_Shut up_, the Doctor told the small voice firmly, and it did.

Until he'd seen Sarah Jane again, he'd thought of her fondly, as someone from the past, but never had he imagined what her life was like after he'd dropped her off in Croyden.

_Aberdeen_, the voice corrected him.

Why had he never thought to find anyone after they'd gone? To make sure they were all right? He'd always continued on his way, picking up new companions and forgetting the old ones. What was it like for Ian and Barbara to return several years after disappearing? How had they coped?

Until he'd brought Rose back home twelve months late, he'd never thought about the consequences. Since he'd met Rose, he was doing all kinds of things he'd never done before. If Rose left him, would he go on to the next adventure and forget her? Could he be content to leave her to live her life without him?

The very thought made a chill run down his spine. Everything was different after Rose.

The meeting broke up in time to hold the first classes of the morning. The Doctor stood up, slowly folding his typed agenda up and sticking it in his pocket.

"You know, I used to have a friend who called himself the Doctor," Ian said with a smile from across the table. He shook his head. "Well, maybe it was me who gave him that name, but it fit him."

The Doctor swallowed. "Really?"

"Haven't seen him in a while - he liked to travel. But I think of him often. He was..." Ian paused. "Nothing like you. He was quite older than you, and a bit cranky. He was a good friend." He smiled. "See you later, Smith."

"Have a good day," the Doctor responded mechanically. Sooner or later, he would say something he shouldn't. It was time to leave Cambridge.

In between his last class of the morning and lunch, he went to his desk and took out a thick sheaf of handwritten papers. He'd written his dissertation one night after Rose and Billy had gone to bed, sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of tea and some delicious chocolate biscuits. He'd hoped to give the impression of an average student, needing some time to formulate a thesis and write up a dissertation. The hardest part was not expanding human knowledge too far beyond what was currently known. No sense in pretending any longer. Better that he get away from Ian.

He brushed a few crumbs off the folder and went to the department secretary's office. She was a woman in her late sixties, rumored to have been there longer than any other Cambridge official. Her grey hair was piled in highest beehive the Doctor had ever seen, and she peered at him over the tops of her glasses.

"Yes?" Even though she was, nominally, the secretary and worked for them all, the Doctor was far from the only one who was intimidated enough by her to rarely ask her to actually perform her expected duties of typing and filing and letter writing. She worked in the office surrounded by three other, junior secretaries who lived in terror of her displeasure. The Doctor felt rather bad for them.

He smiled his most charming smile. It had no effect at all. "Hello, Mrs. Loudon. I have a brief dissertation here that needs typing up."

"And you expect me to do it, do you?"

"Well, I thought -"

"Give it to me," she snapped, and held out her hand. "I'll have one of the undersecretaries take care of it. Come back next Monday."

"Thanks." The Doctor backed away while he still could. Before he could turn around, he saw Mrs. Loudon bark a name and hold his folder out to one of the other secretaries. The younger woman looked at the Doctor as she accepted the papers. For a brief second it looked like a light was suddenly shining from her. The Doctor blinked hard. The light was gone and she was walking away.

He sighed. Time for lunch.

* * *

Rose woke up in a happy daze. Watching the moon landing on tv had been amazing. Watching the Doctor relax and laugh had been even more amazing. Someone had referred to him as Rose's husband while speaking to Rose during the night, and secretly she glowed with pleasure at the thought. Having to get up and go in to work was a bit of a letdown after all that. She'd much rather stay in bed and think over their kisses and what he had said to her. Rose pulled the covers up and decided to do just that for a little bit.

Her happy reverie was broken by the sounds of Billy in the kitchen. She groaned. Billy was a fantastic cook, but he was so loud and messy in the kitchen. She'd finally trained him to clean up his messes, but nothing she said or did could convince him to not yell at the tv or talk loudly to himself as he made breakfast.

Rose got up and showered and dressed and did her hair and makeup. Same routine for weeks and weeks now. It was losing its appeal and she really, really wanted to get the TARDIS back and return to their normal travels. She felt guilty for that, knowing they'd be leaving Billy behind, but she couldn't change that.

Billy was piling fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate as she came in. He whistled when he saw her.

"Look at you, girl! Work that mini."

Rose blushed and slid into a chair, effectively hiding her miniskirt.

"Don't be embarrassed," Billy grinned. "You are totally rocking the hip disco fashions."

She laughed. "It's not quite disco yet." She accepted a plate of eggs and toast. "Thanks! Anyway, you're not much better," she continued, waving her fork at him.

He glanced down at his powder blue shirt. "What, this old thing?"

"It's new, isn't it?"

"I need to fit in," he explained, starting to eat his own eggs. "I'm looking for a job today."

"Are you? Where?"

"Anywhere they'll have me, to start." He shrugged. "Race relations aren't what they could be this year."

"Well, it gets better," she said encouragingly.

"Eventually. Doesn't mean I want to live through it."

"It's hard, being thrown back in time." Rose got up to get a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. "Once we went back to 1879 and met Queen Victoria."

Billy watched as she poured two glasses of juice. "Yeah? Was she as uptight as they say?"

"Maybe a bit more." Rose grinned as she sat back down and handed him a glass. "She didn't like me too much - thought I wasn't dressed enough."

"If she saw you now, she'd think the same thing," Billy pointed out with a smirk.

They parted ways after breakfast, Rose for the shop and Billy to do the washing up before his job search. As Rose headed down the stairs, she caught a glimpse of an open door on the ground floor.

"Hi, Mrs. MacMurray!"

"Good morning, dear!" Her landlady smiled at her. "I just got back from the most marvelous walk. Such a beautiful morning. Shame you have to work and miss it all."

"Oh, I won't miss anything," Rose assured her. "I have a walk of my own coming up."

"Still, a young woman shouldn't have to work outside the home if her husband can support her." The older woman shook her head, the image of disapproval in a light pink polyester pantsuit. "In my day, it wasn't done."

Rose smiled uncomfortably. "Well, I like to work. Have a good day!"

The door to the flat closed, and the smile slide from her face. So much for women's lib. She might not exactly enjoy working in a shop every day, and the Doctor's current salary certainly meant that she didn't have to, but what would she do instead? This way she stayed busy and contributed to their income, and - Rose cut off her thoughts. There was no need to justify her actions to anyone.

She met the postman on the way out and had to look again, since it was someone new.

"Good morning!" she said, waving to catch his attention. "Where's Joe today?"

The postman glanced up at her from the stack of envelopes in his hand. "Went on holiday. I'm his replacement."

"Holiday? But he just got back from holiday!"

"I wouldn't know." He entered the building and let the door swing shut behind him.

Rose frowned. She would have gone after him to ask more questions, but a peek at her watch reminded her that she'd be late if she didn't hurry up.

The postman was forgotten as she made her daily walk to work. Familiar sights and sounds greeted her as she entered the neighborhood. Children walking to school, women doing early morning shopping, men in smart suits heading to the office. Mr. Patel from the grocery across the street waved to her as he swept the sidewalk clean.

"Morning, Rose!" he called. "Come by at lunchtime. I'll have fresh chips just for you!"

"I'll be there!" she promised. "Sounds delicious!"

Iris kept promising her a key to the shop's back door, but so far she hadn't been able to get hold of Mr. Troy to arrange it. In the meantime Rose usually knocked on the shop's front door and waited to be let in. As she raised her hand to knock, she caught a good look at the storefront and stopped in confusion.

The entire outside of the building had been renovated, and now it shone in shades of blue and yellow. A giant yellow sun hung over the doorway, with the name HELIO written in blue across it.

She knocked on the door, found it open, and stepped in cautiously. "Iris?"

"Come on in!" Iris called from somewhere in the back of the building

Rose locked the door behind her and stared. On Friday there had been the regular half of the shop, with clothes and racks and the till, and the other, empty half that was still being renovated. The two spaces had been separated by a wall. Today the wall was gone, and the empty shop next door had been transformed into a space of blues and yellows, with mirrors and empty clothes racks and boxes and boxes stacked all around.

"What happened?" Rose said in astonishment. "Iris?"

Iris appeared from the back, dressed in a white sweater set and dark brown skirt that grazed her knees, a far cry from Rose's pink and orange minidress and pink tights.

"Can you believe it?" Iris demanded. "I got here this morning and it looked like, like this!" She waved an arm at the new space.

"But how did this all get done on the weekend?" Rose asked. "I don't get it - the wall was up and nothing was painted or anything on Friday!"

Iris looked troubled. "I know. But it's all done now."

"Completely?"

"There are a few things left to do. I think part of the crew will be by today to finish up. Mr. Troy didn't leave many instructions for me about that. He said to just let the work crew handle it all."

"He's usually so careful and picky," Rose commented.

"I know! And he's just impossible to reach lately." Iris sighed. "I hate feeling like something is going on but I don't know what."

"It's just so strange." Rose started to walk over to the new space to investigate, but she was stopped by an angry pounding at the door.

"It's Jim," Iris said, and let him in.

"What the hell is going on?" Jim demanded when he was let into the shop. "My crew and I have plans drawn up for this place, and then I get here this morning and see that everything's finished differently!"

Iris shrugged. "This is how we found it today. I don't know any more than you do right now."

Jim looked at Rose, who shook her head. "Sorry."

He threw a thick roll of papers down in disgust. "I have never put up with so much nonsense on a job before! Who does your boss think he is?"

"Our boss," Iris pointed out. "As in, the one who makes the decisions."

He ran a hand through his blond hair. "Fine. Call him for me, please, so we can straighten this out."

"All right." Iris went to the phone, and Rose watched Jim watch Iris now that Iris wasn't looking directly at him.

Despite the summer weather, he was wearing the same black leather jacket he always wore. Rose often wondered whether he felt the heat in it. She thought she might have to make awkward small talk until Iris returned, but Jim muttered something and walked outside.

And she thought this would be an ordinary job in an ordinary shop, Rose thought to herself. Instead she was caught in the middle of strange remodeling practices and two people who were attracted to each other but were determined to avoid it.

There was a new shipment of boxes stacked up by the counter, so she started to open them up. The first box showed a pile of vibrant blue. Rose carefully picked up the item on top and shook it out. It was a long dress with long, full sleeves and a high neck. She recognized it as a knockoff of a Laura Ashley maxi-dress made popular recently. When she held it up to her, the hemline hit the floor and kept going. Some fashions were meant for taller people.

"I can't reach Mr. Troy," Iris said, coming out of the back office. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do! He's been really terrible lately about filling me in." She caught sight of the dress in Rose's hands. "Is that a maxi-dress?" she demanded. "I never thought we'd get anything so trendy in."

Rose handed it over. "Maybe it's time you ordered more fun stuff."

"Well, I didn't order this one. Mr. Troy did. But it's nice." Iris glanced around. "Where's Jim?"

"He went outside." Rose walked to the door and peered out the window. "Here he is."

Iris immediately busied herself with unpacking dresses. Rose rolled her eyes and opened the door.

"Well?" Jim asked as soon as he was inside. "What's going on?"

"I can't reach Mr. Troy," Iris said apologetically. "I really don't know what's going on. I'm sorry."

Jim sighed loudly. "This is the strangest job I've ever worked. No feedback, no questions answered, odd work being done when we're not here." He shook his head. "We'll finish up what we started next door. If I don't hear from your employer, we're leaving at the end of the day."

* * *

There was no time to waste. The Doctor had been reminded that danger lurked all around. First it was Ian, showing up unexpectedly at Cambridge. Next could be anything, like one of his previous regenerations or the Brigadier, or something even worse. He had to get back to the TARDIS.

With that worthy goal in mind, he arrived home late that night with a large box.

"Did you carry that all the way home?" Rose demanded as he set it down on the floor with a huge sigh.

"Yes. No. Well, if by carry you mean held in my lap on the way home..."

She was already peeking inside. "What is all this?"

He pulled out the item on top. "A modified video camera! Not quite digital, but not bad for this year."

Billy took it out of his hands. "How'd you manage to rig this up?"

He was rewarded with looks of pity and scorn.

"The Doctor can do anything," Rose said reproachfully.

"Time Lord," was all the Doctor said. "Trust me."

"Trust him," Rose added. "You should have seen him in the nineteen-fifties."

There was also an Autocue and videotapes at the ready, in short, everything that one would need to film the Doctor according to the notes left him by Sally Sparrow.

"That's so cool!" Rose said enthusiastically. "Now we're getting somewhere!"

She and the Doctor beamed at each other and Billy rolled his eyes. Sometimes they were just too much.

Eventually the Doctor pulled himself away from Rose.

"Right! Well, let's have a bite to eat, shall we? Then we can come back and rehearse a bit, do a dry run, and film this all up, nice and tidy." He paused and glanced around. "What's, er, for dinner?"

"I just got back," Rose said. "Iris and I went to that Italian place near the shop."

"Oh. Okay." The Doctor looked at Billy.

"I had takeaway, mate. No leftovers."

The Doctor sighed. "Anything in the kitchen?"

* * *

They started taping the next night. The Doctor left Cambridge early, canceling his last two classes. He was eager to start filming. Despite the early hour, Billy was already back at the flat.

"Hello." The Doctor took off his coat and laid it across a chair. "Shouldn't you be out pounding the pavement in search of employment?"

Billy grinned. "Found a job, mate."

"Already? Good news! In law enforcement?"

Billy snorted. "Right. Men of color aren't exactly welcome these days."

"Still, you could." The Doctor put his glasses on. "Someone has to make the leap."

"I know I could. And maybe it makes me weak, but I don't feel like dealing with everything I'd have to deal with in this time and place. I want something to go easy for me."

"What sort of job did you find, then?"

Billy smiled. "What do you think? I bumped into a man with a camera this afternoon. I'm going into film production. I'm starting at the bottom, but I'm a quick learner."

They were waiting impatiently by the time Rose got home.

"You're back!" she said in delight upon seeing the Doctor. "And early."

He grinned. "Had to get back into my suit and gear up for taping." He rubbed the front of his beloved brown suit.

"Are we ready to start?" Rose looked around the flat. One of the kitchen chairs was placed in front of the modified camera, and the Doctor's Autocue sat on the coffee table, piled up on some books to make it eye level with him when he sat down.

"We're ready. Places, Billy. Rose, you stay out of the camera's way."

The Doctor looked over the materials. One Autocue. One transcript, done in shorthand by Sally Sparrow's friend Larry. One transcript, written out in Sally's own hand. The video camera he had built.

He glanced over at Rose. She was wearing a pink dress with a low, square neckline. Whatever she was wearing underneath it was doing impressive things to her cleavage. He forced himself to look away and focused on the matching pink headband in her hair. That was better. Then she saw him staring and smiled at him, and he was utterly distracted by her mouth.

Billy cleared his throat. "You ready or what?"

"What?"

"Are you ready?" Billy spoke clearly and slowly, and the Doctor scowled.

"Of course I'm ready! Just waiting on you."

Billy muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, sure," and took his place behind the camera.

"Do you have everything?" Rose asked.

"I think so." The Doctor scanned his notes and powered up the Autocue. "Billy?"

"I'm ready." Billy was feeling surreal. Here he was, stuck in the past. He was making a video for a medium that wouldn't exist for decades to come, and he was doing it based on the writings of a girl he'd spoken to for less than five minutes. The Doctor was right. Sometimes, if you thought about it too much, you just got a headache.

The Doctor smoothed a hand over his hair and adjusted his glasses. Then he cleared his throat and glanced back at Rose. She smiled, that sparkle in her eyes that he loved telling him that she was having a tremendous amount of fun. "All right," the Doctor finally said. "Turn the camera on."

Billy focused the camera on the Doctor. "We're rolling. Go."

The Doctor had read the words so often he had memorized them. Still, he read as he looked at the camera, determined to get this exactly right, determined to get back to the TARDIS, to get Rose back to where she belonged.

"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint -" Rose stood up and tugged her short skirt down, trying to sit without showing too much skin. Despite the importance of the moment, he got too distracted and struggled to find his place again. "- it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff."

He paused a moment. Billy shook his head and Rose smiled in absolute delight.

"It got away from me, yeah," the Doctor admitted ruefully. Never did random words on a page so aptly mirror his feelings. He paused. "Well, I _can_ hear you." Which was not exactly true, since he couldn't hear anything, but he knew what was coming, and that counted.

When he'd finished he switched the Autocue off and leaned back with a sigh. "Let's look over what we filmed."

It took several hours more, but they finally had it the way he wanted.

"We've done it," the Doctor declared. "We finally did it!" He felt elated and excited and he beamed at his companions.

They merely looked at him.

"What?" he demanded. "What is it?"

"How's it work, then?" Rose asked. "Will we get sent back right now?"

"I don't know," he admitted, scratching his head. "It could work that way. Or not."

"Or not?" Billy repeated. "Then when? When we take the tape out of the camera? When I put it onto dvds?"

"I just don't know." The Doctor hated to admit it, but he didn't know how this would all work, didn't know how they'd get back.

Rose sighed.

"It's late," Billy said. "Would you mind getting out of my bedroom? We can celebrate tomorrow night. We'll have a nice curry."

* * *

Billy had a motive for proposing dinner. He had news for them.

"All right, then," the Doctor said once they had paid for their dinners the next night. "Let's have it."

"Have what?" Billy asked innocently.

"You've been fidgeting all night. What's on your mind?"

"Let's get out of here first."

Once outside they settled into a familiar pattern - Rose on the left, holding the Doctor's hand, and Billy on the Doctor's right. They walked down the street, enjoying the warm air and the few remaining moments of daylight.

Billy took a deep breath. "My first day at work went really well. I get on with my boss and all the others."

"That's good," Rose said encouragingly.

"It is, yeah. Anyway...I wanted to tell you both...I'm moving out tomorrow."

This came as a surprise to them both. The Doctor stopped walking.

"So soon?"

"Yeah."

"But, but...where will you go?" Rose felt silly, but she was going to miss Billy. She'd gotten used to him being around, especially with the Doctor working long hours at Cambridge.

"Reckon I've got to leave home sometime, eh, Mum?" Billy's joke fell flat and he forced a smile. "I'm grateful to the two of you. I really, really am, and I'll do everything I can, as soon as I can, to get you back where you belong. But it's time I headed out and started my new life."

"But what will you DO?" Rose was all but wringing her hands. The Doctor slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him in a one-armed hug.

"My boss helped me find a flat near work. It's not bad. I'll be making enough to support myself. Can't live with the two of you lovebirds forever."

Rose blushed. The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Yes. Well. I better give you this, then." He fished around inside his pocket and pulled out a flat disk.

"What's this?" Billy asked as he took it from him.

"It's a copy of my performance for Sally. Put it in a safe place until it's time to transfer it to dvd. Don't ask when to do it, you'll know when it's time. I left you a list of places in London where I placed copies for safe keeping. Mostly safe deposit boxes. I'll pay the fees on them until you don't need it anymore."

Billy fingered the wrapped package before placing it in the front pocket of his shirt.

"I'll take care of it."

"I don't think you should leave yet," Rose couldn't help saying. "You haven't been here very long. Maybe you shouldn't be on your own yet. What if this job doesn't work out and you need money?"

"I'll be all right," Billy assured her. "I have three magic words."

"Magic words?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What three magic words?"

Billy smiled a beatific smile. "Apple, Yahoo!, and Google."


	31. Chapter 31

Billy was gone before Rose had time to process it fully. His few possessions were packed in a rucksack and left with him. The flat was in need of a good cleaning, and Billy had taken most of the cooking utensils, but the Doctor was happy to have the sofa back so he could watch television in comfort.

"See? All back to normal." The Doctor sat down and smiled at her, patting the seat beside him in invitation.

Rose sat down next to him and allowed him to shift her so he could put his arm around her.

"We're still here."

He didn't need to ask what she meant. "I know," he said quietly.

"I thought that when we made the tapes that we would end up back home somehow."

"I know. It's not an instantaneous exchange, making one item in return for passage back to our proper time. It could happen at any moment, depending on what changes occur in the future. Or it might not be..." The Doctor stopped talking.

Rose's breath hitched in her chest. "It might not be until we hit the year 2007 again?"

"Maybe." There was a world of desolation in that word, and Rose felt the closest she'd come to despair since traveling with him. She'd know that was a possibility, but part of her had refused to acknowledge it.

"What do we do?" she asked. "What are we supposed to do?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and squeezed her to him before standing up.

"We go for a walk," he announced.

"A walk?" She couldn't believe he thought a walk would be in any way useful right now.

"Come with me."

It had only been an hour since they'd said goodbye to Billy. There were more people in the streets, heading out for the evening and going home for work. The Doctor took Rose's hand in his.

"Where to?"

"Oh, I don't care." How could she care about a walk when they were potentially trapped here? Why wasn't he more upset?

"We just need to wait for time to sort itself out," he said when Rose asked him. "It will be okay."

She heard the undertone of desperation in his voice but said nothing. They were each afraid, and each was afraid of worrying the other. That had to be a good sign, but of what, she didn't know.

She was too young to be so suspicious of every movement, every comment from him. She was too young to be trapped in time.

"Come on!" The Doctor forced himself to smile down at her, wanting her to cheer up by the sheer force of his will. "Fancy an ice cream?"

Rose allowed herself to be cheered up. "Sounds good."

The Doctor's favored sweet shop sold small ice creams along with fairy cakes and the kind of sweets that made your teeth ache. Rose was familiar with that place, since it was just down the street from the shop where she worked. Sometimes she stopped there during her meal break to buy some sweets for the Doctor. It was a small touch of domesticity that never failed to delight him. Sometimes he shared with her.

The lights were on at Helio as they passed by.

"Hang on," Rose said in puzzlement.

The Doctor had noticed the lights, too. "I thought you closed at five each night?"

"We do," she said slowly, drawing near to the front door. The blind was pulled down at the window, and the storefront windows were hung with a strange sort of dark material. Light shone through around the edge. Faint sounds were coming from within.

Rose tried the door, but it was locked as firmly as when Iris had locked it a few hours before. She put her ear to the window, trying to hear more.

The Doctor reached for the sonic screwdriver. "Shall I unlock it for you?"

Rose hesitated a moment before she pulled away from the door. "No. Sometimes the boss man has another crew working at night to try and finish up the renovations. That's probably all it is."

Still, she looked over her shoulder as they walked away.

"Boss man?" the Doctor asked. "Is that part of the current lingo?"

Rose smiled. "Got to keep up with the times."

The flat seemed empty without Billy there. Not only empty, but smaller. The Doctor wasn't sure how the removal of an adult male could make a place seem smaller and not larger, but it was. At night, when Rose was asleep, he prowled the rooms, trying not to panic at the feeling of claustrophobia. Sometimes he would leave, walking the dark streets of London trying to catch a deep enough breath, but he was uneasy leaving Rose alone for long. He didn't know yet what was happening, but her comments about missing tenants and a postman had been noted by him, and he was suspicious of everything and everyone.

By the Monday morning after Billy had moved out, the Doctor was ready to jump out of his skin. He stood at the sink in the small kitchen, watching water dribble from the tap into the teakettle.

He heard Rose walk into the room before she spoke.

"You're still here."

At the sound of her voice his misgivings and feelings of anger and frustration left him. Not all the way, and not for good, but they left him. He smiled at her and laughed softly as she gave him a hug.

"I have a free morning," he explained, returning the hug and automatically calculating the smell of her hair, the feel of her in his arms and a hundred other details about her. "I don't have to be there until after lunch. Are you hungry?"

"Starving!" Rose glanced around the kitchen. "Did...you make breakfast?"

"No," he admitted sheepishly, turning the water off as the kettle overflowed. "I thought maybe you'd like to."

Rose rolled her eyes. "If you want toast or cold cereal, yeah."

He thought longingly back to the mornings when Billy would cook coddled eggs, perfect toast and rashers of bacon. Rose must have read his mind.

"I miss him, too," she said. "And not just for the food. Shall we go out? I've got time before work."

He beamed at her. "Absolutely."

"I'll just get my bag."

Rose paused in her room as she collected the things she needed for work. Neither one of them was willing to bring up the new shift in their relationship. She'd thought with Billy gone she'd get up the nerve to suggest they kiss some more, but so far her nerve had failed her. And the Doctor would certainly never bring it up. There must have been a class on avoidance at the Time Lord Academy. He certainly would have aced it.

He was waiting by the door for her. Rose bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that he was once again wearing the brown suit. She only hoped they returned to the TARDIS before it fell apart.

"Ready?"

"Yep." She waited for him to lock the flat up and accepted the hand he held out to her.

Their neighbors were busy coming and going, leaving for work or just returning after an early morning errand. In the lobby a man stood next to Mrs. MacMurray, a newspaper advert in his hand.

"Good morning!" Rose said.

"Good morning!" the landlady responded. "Just showing an empty flat. Have a good day!"

The Doctor opened the door for Rose without letting go of her hand.

"There've been a lot of people moving in and out of this building lately," he remarked.

"Busy season," she agreed.

"Rose, I don't like it."

She turned to find him gazing at her. "What don't you like?" His sudden pronouncement left her unsure whether he meant the season, the weather, or her hairstyle. She reached up to smooth her hair, done up in a modest twist.

"I don't like how people are coming and going. You've said that even the postmen keep changing?" She nodded. "Promise me you won't go anywhere alone for a bit."

She kept walking because people were all around them, but she was so surprised she wanted to come to a halt and stare at him.

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. I just don't know what's happening and I want you safe. Don't leave work without me."

"But you don't get home until long after the shop is closed up for the night," she pointed out.

He was silent for a long moment. They continued walking, hand in hand, until a sudden influx of young girls wearing t-shirts and jeans came toward them. Their linked hands released.

"You don't need him, sister," the girl closest to Rose told her as she passed by. "Men aren't good for anything!"

Rose glanced at the Doctor to see how he was taking that statement. He looked amused. "I"m sorry she feels that way," he said gravely. "A world without women would be a sad place, indeed."

"So would a world without you," Rose said decidedly.

They continued on their way until they came to a small cafe that served eggs the way Rose liked, in tiny egg cups the color of the sky. The Doctor put his hand on her arm, stopping her when she would have gone inside.

"Rose. Wait for me after work. I'll come meet you each night."

"You won't have time to get to work and do everything before you comeback."

"Let me worry about that."

"You worry too much." She poked him in the chest for emphasis.

"Ow!"

"Don't be such a baby."

He caught her hand before she could poke him again and pulled her down the narrow alley beside the cafe. "I mean it, Rose."

She rolled her eyes. "Doctor, I can take care of myself."

"I'm not saying you can't -" He stopped talking as he saw the expression on her face change. "Rose?"

She was looking over his shoulder, her face shifting from shock to surprise to a strange, wild triumph. For an instant a golden light, old as time, gleamed from her eyes. Then it was gone and she was Rose again.

Half afraid to look, he slowly turned around. On the brick wall of the alley were two words, scrawled in bold black letters. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

BAD WOLF.

She'd scattered words through time and space to save his life. He of all people should know Rose could take care of herself.


	32. Chapter 32

The return to the flat was a quiet one despite the chaos of London all around them. Cars honked and music played and people talked and laughed and shouted, but Rose and the Doctor walked in silence. Rose wondered what was wrong. It was obvious that something was bothering him.

It could not have been the words Bad Wolf. They'd seen the phrase everywhere, even before they'd been trans-matted to the Game Station and figured out what it meant. It had become a non-issue after his regeneration, something to be noted casually when they came across it.

So it must be something else. But what?

The Doctor was aware of Rose throwing glances at him as they walked down the street, but he couldn't summon up the nerve to explain it to her. The words Bad Wolf were just words. They held no power over him.

But Bad Wolf herself terrified him. Hadn't he died to save Rose from that power? He remembered his fear and awe, seeing Rose bathed in a golden light, her hair blowing in a silent breeze. He knew the terrible power she'd been capable of, and he'd thought that had been left behind along with the Daleks and the Game Station and even Jack Harkness. He'd given his life for that, and it should be gone.

So why was the light back in her eyes? Had it been there all along, waiting? What would it do to Rose?

Or had he only imagined it?

"So...do you have an ice cream headache?" Rose asked. "You're being awfully quiet."

"No." He heard how terse his answer was but couldn't help it. He took a deep breath. "Rose. Did you...notice anything, in that alley back there?"

She looked puzzled. "Do you mean the writing on the wall? That was just me doing my time and space thing." She gave him a small smile.

She didn't remember. He knew that, had questioned her repeatedly about the events they'd been through, and he'd been satisfied that her memories of what had happened after she'd looked into the heart of the TARDIS were hazy at best. She knew she had destroyed the Daleks, but that was all.

He must have imagined what he saw. Rose was Rose, and nothing more.

He continued in silence, running things over and over in his mind in an attempt to make sense of it. They reached the building and the words flew out of Rose's mouth as he started to open the door.

"Doctor, what's wrong?"

He stopped and looked back at her. She was frowning in frustration. "Nothing," he forced himself to say. "I'm sorry. Maybe it was the ice cream."

She didn't look like she believed him. He gently prodded her inside.

"Nothing's wrong," he said again. "I think the ice cream was a bit off, that's all. Next time I'll try the chocolate."

"Or maybe stick with one scoop, not three," Rose said humorously, allowing herself to be persuaded that he was fine.

888

The next morning Rose was still wondering if things were as all right as the Doctor claimed, but he met her at breakfast with a cheerful smile and a bowl of hot cereal.

"I'll walk you to the shop this morning," he said as he poured her a cup of tea.

"Won't that make you late? And then late to come home?"

"It won't make me too late, I swear."

Rose eyed him narrowly and finally gave in. "I'd like that. Thanks."

After breakfast they gathered up their things and locked the flat up behind them. Rose had made it halfway down the first flight of stairs when she stopped. Something had caught her eye and she bent down to get a better look.

"Shoe come untied?" the Doctor asked.

There was something on the floor that didn't belong there. "Do you see this?" she asked instead. He bent down beside her, his arm brushing hers. His quick intake of breath told her when he saw it.

"Step back." He pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, thumbed the setting, and aimed it at the small dark blotch on the step.

Rose watched in trepidation as he looked at the result. "What is it?"

The Doctor's face was grim as he put the screwdriver away and stood up. Rose was still kneeling down and he extended a hand to help her up.

"It's blood."

"Blood!" She looked all around, but that was the only splotch she could see. "Maybe someone is injured."

"Maybe." The Doctor took her arm and led her down the remaining stairs. "From now on you don't come and go without me."

Rose did not argue.

Despite his assurances that he had lots of time to get to Cambridge, the Doctor left her at the door to the shop with just a quick kiss on her cheek.

"See you tonight," he said, and sprinted down to catch his train.

Rose watched him go, feeling unsettled. Her Doctor, brought down to the lows of hurrying to catch a train for work. He didn't complain about it at all, but she knew it wasn't something he wanted to be doing. How much longer before he started to resent the situation?

"Rose?" Iris opened the door and peered out at her. "I saw you walk up. Are you all right?"

Rose forced a smile. "Yep. Good morning!"

"I'm not sure if it's good or not," Iris confessed, locking the door up behind Rose.

Rose glanced over her shoulder as she walked to the back office to put her things away. "What's wrong?"

Iris followed her to the back and sat at the desk. When Rose had first starting working at Helio the back office, as well as the back room, had been spotless. Now the desk was covered in papers and invoices, and shipping boxes were stacked up against the walls. Rose already knew that the back room was just as chaotic. As fast as they tried to put out new merchandise, new orders came in. Many had been marked "do not open", and those Iris had been forced to set aside for Mr. Troy to deal with. The entire situation was making her frazzled.

Rose shoved aside a box of stockings and perched on the chair in front of the desk.

Iris frowned slightly at the mess. Coming from any other woman, that slight frown would have been a ferocious scowl.

"Mr. Troy is coming in this morning. He wants to discuss some of the renovations."

"Will they be finished soon?" Rose couldn't help asking eagerly. "It's crazy around here."

"He says there's about two months' more work to go." Iris toyed with her pearl necklace and did not sound excited about this.

"How can there be two more months? Just last night I saw workmen in here after hours."

Iris shook her head. "You couldn't have. The men Mr. Troy hired are finished with that."

Rose tilted her head, puzzled. "We saw lights inside here. And we heard noise."

"Nothing's been done since we left yesterday," Iris responded, and before Rose could argue the point, they were interrupted by loud pounding on the shop's front window.

"What on earth?" Iris stood up and hurried to the front, the skirt of her powder blue shift swirling around her knees. Rose followed, her eyes on Iris's matching, powder-blue shoes with a modest heel.

"About time!" Jim said impatiently, shouldering his way in through the door. "I get a call saying I need to be here as soon as possible, and -" He stopped as he looked around, glancing from Iris to Rose. "Troy's not here, is he?"

"Not yet." Iris checked the time and locked the door again. The shop wasn't due to open for another twenty minutes.

"I'll just set my things down, then." Jim strode to the back of the shop where his current project, custom-built shelving for folded men's dress shirts and ties, was in progress. The large plastic hangings that protected the shop's merchandise from the dust and dirt of the renovations were pulled back, at the moment. Rose and Iris watched as he paused to drag his black leather jacket, revealing his working outfit of jeans and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt in faded grey. Iris hastily turned away as Jim turned back to them.

Rose rolled her eyes. Iris was acting like she was in school again instead of a grown woman allowed to have feelings for a man.

Maybe the women's movement needed to start a little earlier, Rose reflected. A little girl power wouldn't do Iris any harm.

Since she couldn't say any of that out loud, she smiled at Jim. "Were you part of the crew last night?"

"What crew?" From somewhere among his things Jim had produced a thermos, and now proceeded to take a long drink of whatever was inside. The morning sunlight touched his head and made his blond hair shine. Rose was distracted by the color - it was a sharp reminder that she really needed to do something about her own hair. It had grown out a bit and while she had been limping along with some temporary color hair dyes, she was anxious to cover up her dark roots. She was not as anxious to try out the permanent hair colors of this time period, though, despite the Doctor's assurances that she would be fine. Jackie had taught her too much about the way hair coloring used to be done.

"The crew who was working here last night." Rose forced her thoughts away from highlights and potential shades of blonde and toxic dyes being tested on innocent bunny rabbits.

"Rose, I told you that no one was here after we left," Iris reminded her from the counter, where she was setting up cash in the till.

"None of my crew were here." Jim leaned against one of the couches sitting in front of the dressing rooms. "We left when you did. Besides, they've all got a holiday this week and next while I finish up these displays. No one would have been here last night."

"I know I heard noises coming from here last night," Rose said stubbornly.

"Perhaps it was the cleaning crew," a voice said smoothly from behind them, and Rose jumped in surprise.

Iris was calmer, since she'd been expecting Mr. Troy's arrival.

"Good morning!" she said.

Jim simply sipped his drink and watched Mr. Troy.

"Good morning, Iris. Rose." He nodded to Rose and looked beyond her to Jim. "You're here bright and early, I see."

Jim straightened up and nodded. "As you requested."

"Good." Rose's employer shot back the cuffs of his shirt to examine his gold watch. "We have some time before opening. Will you all join me in the office."

Iris winced at the mention of the office and glanced at Rose in agony. She worked so hard to send a professional image, and the office was a wreck.

Hector Troy didn't seem to notice. He simply stepped over some boxes to sit in the leather chair behind the desk. He watched as Rose and Iris took the other two chairs in the room. Jim shoved aside a packing case and leaned against the wall.

"I see some of our new freight is arriving." Mr. Troy sent an approving glance around the room, as if he actually appreciated the mess of boxes and packing tape surrounding him. "Lovely. We should be able to put it all away shortly, Iris, so don't worry about the continued disorganization."

Iris smiled faintly. "Of course not."

"If it's unpacking you need done, I can help with that," Jim offered, gesturing to one of the boxes marked "do not open". "I could have the boxes emptied out with an hour."

"No," Mr. Troy said, somewhat more sharply than Rose would have thought necessary. "Leave them be for now. They're not on the sales floor, and I have plans for this merchandise."

Jim shrugged, clearly feeling that if the shop's owner wanted to live in such a mess it was his business.

"Now." Mr. Troy straightened his tie. Rose was close enough to see that it had small yellow sunbursts on the navy background. "I have a few alterations to our plans, Jim. I'm trusting your crew to take care of the changes yourself, without having to hire outside help."

"I thought you already had a second crew working here at night?" Rose asked before she could stop herself.

Iris winced. Clearly the shop-girl should not be questioning the owner. Jim looked interested in the answer.

Mr. Troy was a tall, commanding man in his forties. His dark hair was streaked with silver, and he had a presence about him that usually struck people silent. When he fixed his gaze on Rose, she felt all of that presence and more, and decided on the spot that she was going to be sacked.

Her employer surprised her.

"That was a temporary arrangement. Their work is finished, and now I've decided I want one more thing done."

Rose sat back and decided not to say anything else. Really, what happened in the shop wasn't any of her business. From the looks Iris was throwing her, Iris felt the same way.

"What is it you want me to do?" Jim asked. A lesser man might have added a 'sir' to the end of the statement. It made Rose want to giggle. She settled for a quick smile instead.

"I want a skylight put in. It should be placed right above the middle of the layout out there."

"A skylight," Jim repeated. "Right. How soon?"

"As soon as you can get to it, Jim. I want to start planning for our grand reopening, and the skylight will be the showpiece of the shop."

"What sort of grand reopening are you planning?" Iris asked.

Mr. Troy smiled. "Oh, a very grand one, indeed. I want to make sure we have as many people here as possible." He paused for a moment. "I'll handle those details myself, Iris. Now. Why don't we get ready to open up for the day? Jim, will you meet me in the new area in ten minutes?"

He kept Jim waiting for twenty minutes before he came out of the office, then kept him for just ten minutes to go over some last minute changes to the shelving Jim was constructing. Then he was gone.

"He's an odd bloke, that one." Jim watched him leave, free to speak his mind now that the shop was empty.

"He's very busy right now," Iris said.

Rose looked up from a pile of scarves that she was sorting. "At least he came by in person today. Usually it's long-distance phone calls." The scarves slithered through her hands, refusing to be folded.

"Those are pretty," Jim said unexpectedly. He came over, picked up a light blue silk patterned with small pink flowers. "Will you set this one aside for me?" he asked Rose. He picked up another one, this time in shades of green and yellow. "And this one."

"Sure." Rose placed them aside, and watched with great interest as Jim's attention returned to the pile of silk once more. Iris was watching as well, her thoughts hidden behind cool blue eyes.

Jim held a red scarf out to Iris. She took it automatically.

"That would like nice with your hair," he said, and went back to work.

Iris blushed.

888

The Doctor was fighting a losing battle with himself. Despite his assurances to Rose that all would be well, he could feel the panic rising up. He had no idea if all would be well or not. All he had were a few recordings that Billy would one day put out onto DVDs for him. No assurance that it would get done or get them home.

No knowledge as to when they might get back to the TARDIS. All he knew was that he could not, absolutely not, be trapped here until the year 2007 rolled around again. To stay in one place would be absolute torture. How would he manage it? How would Rose?

But Ian worked here. Could he continue, week by week, to work beside a man he'd once traveled with? Sooner or later he was bound to say something that would make Ian curious, and while it wouldn't be terrible, the Doctor preferred to keep his identity to himself.

As he watched his students file out at the end of his afternoon lecture, the Doctor felt more despondent than ever. He couldn't even run away. In the very back of his mind was the warning he kept hearing over and over again. If they were trapped here for the next few decades, he could not just walk away from this job. If he left Cambridge and couldn't go back than he would need some sort of employment, and to leave trail of bad feelings would jeopardize any other job he attempted to get.

He'd turned into a domestic type of man and it wasn't even his fault.

Still. He might have to play domestic, but he didn't have to do it at Cambridge. Although he was enjoying himself, the sense of entitlement and self-importance that he felt from some of his colleagues made him eager to leave. If he found a closer university he would be closer to Rose, and he wouldn't be forced to take the train in to work at such ridiculous hours. And then, if one day he decided he'd had enough of academia, at least he could leave on friendly terms for something else.

To that end the Doctor went in search of his dissertation. The office was empty except for a single secretary, the one who'd been assigned his handwritten pages. She was kneeling in front of a filing cabinet.

"We've had a setback, Mr. Smith," she said as soon as she saw him enter. "I had to go away last week so I'm a fair bit behind. Mrs. Loudon was going to give it to one of the other girls but there was no time."

The Doctor sighed. Of course. "That's all right, er, what's your name?"

"Helen."

"That's all right, Helen. I won't be defending it for another month or two. But I'd appreciate any action that speeds things up."

"Of course." Helen gave him a hesitant smile and went back to her filing. For a moment her skin seemed to shimmer, but he blinked and the shimmer was gone.

"Er...Helen?"

She looked up. "Yes?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying anything. She looked so normal, standing there in a pink and green striped shirtwaist dress, dark hair caught back in a pink scarf. He was seeing lots of odd things lately.

"Nothing," the Doctor sighed. "Just too much time spent in 1969."

Helen looked confused. "Where else would you be?" she asked.

"Oh, you'd be amazed," he said, and left the office.


	33. Chapter 33

As promised, the Doctor entered the shop just as day's last customer was leaving, arms full of boxes. He held the door open for her and stepped inside.

"Hello," Rose said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He frowned at her. "I told you I'd be here."

"I know, but it's so far away, I thought you wouldn't make it."

"Rose, that's not nice to say," he told her reproachfully.

"Don't pay her any attention, John," Iris called as she counted up the contents of the till. "She's just had a bad day. Take her to dinner someplace nice."

The Doctor turned back to Rose. "Did you have a bad day?"

"Just the usual sort of day." Rose locked the door so no one else could enter. "Let me hang these dresses back up."

The Doctor followed her to the dressing area, where one of the small rooms was draped in dresses.

"Good grief," he said, startled by the display of messiness. "Did someone really leave it looking like that?"

Rose pulled a face. "That someone was the woman you held the door for. She spent lots of money but she left a huge mess."

The Doctor made himself comfortable on one of the blue and yellow upholstered chairs.

"At least you made a nice commission on it, eh?" He propped his feet up on a matching stool nearby.

Rose came out of the dressing room with an armload of identical black dresses. She swatted at his leg as she passed him, making him scowl and lower his feet to the ground.

"Do you want some help?" he offered.

"Don't be daft," she said over her shoulder. "You're useless in here, you are."

He did not deny it. He occupied himself with looking around instead.

"Things are changing around here. I can tell thanks to my massive powers of observation."

Iris smiled over at him. "Yes, that and the noise from next door."

"It is a bit loud over there."

"The customers aren't too fond of it, either." Iris finished writing up the day's checks on the banking slip and began to count out the coins. "We've lost some business over this, but Mr. Troy doesn't seem worried."

"He's more worried about finishing the shop," Rose said as she made another pass through the dressing room. This time she carried a pile of green and yellow fabric, something soft and shiny that kept slipping out of her grasp.

"Let me help you," the Doctor said again, and started to stand.

"I've got it," Rose said again, and neatly evaded his attempts to take some of the clothing from her.

He let her keep it and followed her to the racks instead.

"How come it's all the same dress?" he asked once she started to hang them up.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Mrs. Tipton never takes our word for it when we bring her size back to her. She always says she's at least once size smaller than she really is, so she tries on three or four of every style and gets mad that the dresses run too small. And then she buys the wrong size so she can say she's small than she really is. Of course, then she has to take her clothes to a tailor to fit them right, so she always buys an extra dress so she has enough fabric."

He was utterly fascinated by this look into the human female mind. "Does she really? All so she can say she's a what, a ten instead of a twelve?"

"More like a twelve instead of a fourteen," Rose said humorously. "On a good day."

"It's much cheaper to just buy the size that fits," Iris added, "but we don't make as much money that way."

"So she buys two of everything and takes that to a tailor," the Doctor mused out loud as Rose finished and went back to the dressing room for a third time. "She's helping multiple businesses stay afloat. Amazing!"

"Conceited, more like." Iris dumped the coins into the bank bag and let out an annoyed exclamation as some fell onto the floor.

A man's head poked out from behind the plastic sheeting separating the shop from its future expansion.

"Did you say something?" he called.

"No!" Iris yelled from behind the counter.

"Are you closed, then?"

"Yes!" Iris stood up with her hands full of coins. "You have until I'm ready to go to turn your music up high enough to ruin our hearing."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "My music isn't too loud!"

"It is so!" she snapped. "I can't hear myself think, sometimes."

"I'm amazed you can hear it at all, over the sound of my tools. Or the sound of your prim and proper voice."

Iris drew in a breath, outraged, but as the man scowled at her he caught sight of the Doctor.

"Oh, hello!" He pushed the plastic aside and came out to shake the Doctor's hand. "You must be Mr. Tyler! I'm Jim."

The Doctor allowed Jim to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you. Er, about that name-"

"You can call him John," Rose said hastily from beside him. "No need to be formal among friends, is there?" She handed the Doctor a stack of shoeboxes. "Can you put those away for me? Over there, on the back wall."

He threw her a suspicious glance but walked over to the shoes without another word. "I'll wait for you outside."

"Okay."

"Did I get his name wrong?" Jim asked. "It's Tyler, isn't it?"

Women didn't usually keep their maiden names when they married in this time and place. Jim's assumption was perfectly innocent.

"It's...complicated," Rose said after a moment, and was spared any further inquiries about her so-called married state when Jim appeared to remember something.

"Will you ring up those two scarves I put aside this morning? Don't let Iris lock up before I can pay her." Jim disappeared to clean up his tools. She heard him turn his radio up, and Paul McCartney started to sing _Get__back__to__where__you__once__belonged._

She snorted softly to herself. "I wish."

The Doctor passed by her again on his way to the door. "Think I'll pick up the paper at the shop across the street," he said to Rose.

"I won't be much longer," she promised.

Jim finished up behind the curtain and carefully pulled the plastic sheets back together, as though worried that either Rose or Iris would attempt to look behind them.

He politely paid Rose for the scarves and requested that she wrap them up.

The look on Iris's face did not bode well for Jim. Rose took over, wrapping the pieces of silk in tissue paper and then placing them in two blue and yellow boxes marked with a sunburst design.

"Do you want a bag for them?"

He carefully placed them under his arm. "Nah. My car's not too far." He set the boxes back on the counter so he could dig his car keys out from his pocket. "Good night."

"Good night," Rose said.

Iris paused, but finally gave him a stiff greeting as well. Jim grinned at them both before leaving.

"Iris, you are impossible!" Rose said before the door had closed all the way. "I think he likes you! Do you not like him?"

"It's...complicated," Iris said after hesitating for a moment, and Rose got a firsthand look at how ridiculous a comeback that way. She resolved to never say those words again.

"Well, I shouldn't have said anything. I know it's none of my business."

They parted outside the shop, Iris to do some shopping and Rose to go home. The Doctor was waiting for her.

"Everything all right?" He took her bags from her and threaded his fingers through hers.

A deep sense of relief came over Rose, releasing tension she hadn't been aware of feeling. She smiled up at him.

"Now it is."

He insisted on going somewhere to eat - their kitchen wasn't stocked with much food and neither one wanted to cook. By the time they were finished Rose was eager to go home, wash her face free of makeup, and watch _Coronation__Street_ on the telly.

"That sounds like a great idea," the Doctor said enthusiastically. "Let's get some snacks on the way."

"Snacks? We just ate!"

"I'll need something later on," he assured her, and hustled her in to the closet shop to buy whatever nibbles he thought he would need to survive the next few hours.

Once in the flat Rose went directly to her room to change out of her mint green skirt and white blouse. As fashions went the outfit was fairly tame by her standards, even if the chevron stripes on the skirt in varying shades of green were not something she would have worn before.

Out of habit she checked the mobile phone sitting in the top drawer of the dresser. It was still fully charged and showed a signal. She dialed her mum's number and listened to Jackie's voice one more time. Either the mobile company hadn't shut down the account or it existed in a sort of limbo, just as Rose was.

She hung up before Jackie's voice was finished speaking - what was the point of leaving a message?

"I want to go home," she told her reflection as she removed her earrings and bracelet. "I want to go home right now."

Her reflection did not respond. Rose sighed and put on the grey sweats she'd been wearing when they'd landed in 1969. She pulled on a plain t-shirt, let the heart lock and key charms hang outside, and took her matching hoodie along just in case she got cold.

Out in the kitchen she could hear the Doctor rattling around.

"You almost finished?" he called out.

"Be right there! Turn the tv on!"

By the time Rose had washed the makeup off her face the Doctor had gone into the room to change his own clothes. The plain grey suit he'd worn to the university hung haphazardly from a hanger, the shirt and tie thrown on the floor.

As a matter of principle, Rose did not pick them up. She may have been in charge of the washing but she was not his maid. Even as she turned to leave the room something in her wavered. Bending down, she picked up the tie and tossed it in the wardrobe. She meant to put the shirt in the hamper, but she caught a faint whiff of the shaving cream he used in the morning. She brought the shirt up to her nose. It smelled like him, warm and familiar and just slightly out of place.

"Rose!" he yelled. "What are you doing?"

She dropped the shirt immediately, not wanting him to find her sniffing her dirty clothes like a mad stalker. "Coming!"

The Doctor had set out a tray containing crisps, popcorn and various bits of chocolate. There was more on the tray than the two of them would eat in a week.

"It's _Coronation__Street_," he said by way of explanation when he encountered Rose's stare. "You've got to live a little."

She giggled and sat down on the couch beside him. The nights were starting to cool off, although they hadn't had to turn the heat on yet. She wriggled into her hoodie and pulled the zip up halfway. The Doctor handed her a crisp.

"Mmm, thanks. Is it time?"

"Yep." The Doctor used the sonic screwdriver to turn the tv on. With his other hand he scooped up a handful of chips and leaned back against the cushions. He'd changed into plain trousers and a long-sleeved blue shirt. Rose was glad he was giving his suit a break but it was still a jolt sometimes to see him wearing such ordinary clothes.

As she looked closer it seemed that it had been a long day for him. There were slight shadows under his eyes and his hair was mussed.

"Did you have a bad day, too?" she guessed.

He glanced at her as the opening music to the program began. "Me? No. The same teaching classes, dealing with students, maneuvering through the halls of academia." He grimaced. "Not bad. Just dull."

She sighed. "Remember running for our lives?"

He flashed her a quick grin. "Which time?"

Rose laughed and suddenly neither one of them particularly minded how boring and difficult life was these days. She leaned forward and grabbed a chocolate biscuit while the Doctor opened a bottle of Coke for her.

"Do you know what's funny, though?" the Doctor asked during a break in the program, as if they were continuing a conversation they'd started earlier.

"No, what?" Rose looked at him expectantly.

"I'm here. Right now, in this flat with you. But somewhere else in London, another me is here, too. Running about, working and having adventures and just being me - well, him, since he and I aren't much alike even though we're the same person - while I just sit here, waiting to get back where I belong."

Rose was silent, looking at him with wide eyes. He rarely spoke about his life before he met her, and she didn't want to do anything that would make him stop talking.

"It's silly, anyway," he continued. "I mean, I can't go tracking myself down, asking to borrow the TARDIS, because..." His voice trailed off.

"Because the universe would explode if the two of you met?" Rose suggested, and he laughed.

"Sort of. He's a lucky bastard, he is. His people have stranded him here on Earth, but he knows where they are. He knows that home is still there. He's not alone." The Doctor's voice trailed off again and he stared fixedly at the television screen.

"You're not alone, Doctor," Rose said firmly. "I'm right here."

That snapped him out of it and he gave her a wide smile. "I know. I'm so glad you're here, Rose Tyler. Don't worry. I won't go looking for myself and ripping the fabric of time and space. But I do need to keep a low profile. If he ever caught wind of me, there'd be some awkward explanations, and who knows what events would change?"

"I'll just keep you close by then," she said.

"Make sure you do." The Doctor demonstrated how much he wanted that by moving closer to her and putting his arm around her.

Something made Rose open her mouth before she could think it through. "Doctor."

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."


	34. Chapter 34

He could only stare at her, his mouth opening and closing without saying a word.

"What did you say?" he finally asked.

Rose shifted on the couch and leaned in closer. "Doctor. Kiss me." She spoke slowly and clearly and he had a look of absolute shock on his face. Since he wasn't going to move, and since they'd really, really waited long enough for this, Rose moved in toward him. A part of her cowered in fear that he would push her away, but he didn't move at all. His eyes were fixed on hers, and he was absolutely still.

Well, she'd come this far. Rose gathered her courage and brushed her lips against his. He still didn't react and she pulled away to get a good look at his face. She thought she knew where they'd been heading. Was she completely wrong? Was he still the master of mixed signals?

"Doctor, what-"

He moved before she could finish the sentence. His hands slid into her hair, sending pins flying everywhere and destroying the updo she'd left in place. His mouth found hers and he kissed her with an urgency Rose hadn't known he felt. She made a small noise of surprise and he pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "Did I hurt you? You said you wanted..." His voice trailed off to nothing and he looked slightly confused.

It was good to know she wasn't the only one unsure of what to do. She smiled slowly. "No, you didn't hurt me." She kissed him back with equal passion, wrapping her arms around his neck as he dragged her closer.

"Thank goodness," he muttered.

"Mmm hmm," she agreed, finally letting her fingers comb through his hair. She'd wanted to do that for ages and ages.

He kissed her like a desperate man, and she didn't care at all. She felt just as desperate - how long had she wanted this? But finally Rose had to stop for breath, and she pulled away with a gasp, holding onto his arms.

He was watching her with an intensity that both thrilled her and made her nervous.

"You all right?"

She smiled, leaning against the cushions. "Oh, yes."

"Are...we're not finished, are we?" His voice held more than a note of uncertainty, and for the first time Rose sensed the power she held over him.

"I'm not. Are you?"

That made him grin and restored the look of mischief in his eye. "Oh, I'm definitely not finished."

A moment later, though, the Doctor stopped. "Do you hear that?"

Rose blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus after being kissed senseless. "Do I hear what?"

"That noise."

She frowned at him, a bit annoyed at having to stop when they were so clearly enjoying themselves. "It's the TV."

He frowned back at her, bracing himself up on one arm and listening hard. "No. No, it's something else."

She waited for a second but didn't hear anything. "Doctor, I don't really care about that right now."

"You know what? I don't either." He grinned and kissed her once more. Rose happily responded, and this time his hands were at the hem of her shirt, about to touch her bare skin, when she pushed him away.

"Rose, what-"

"Damn it! I do hear something!" Flushed and out of breath, she glared at him as though it was his fault.

The Doctor fumbled for the sonic screwdriver to turn the TV off. It fell to the floor and with a soft curse he reached for a packet of chocolate biscuits. He lobbed the packet at the TV and hit the switch. The screen went black.

Rose giggled. "Nice aim."

Together they listened into the silence, still wrapped in each other's arms. Somewhere in the building someone was speaking very loudly. Running footsteps came and went, and a siren was heard in the distance.

"Should we go see what's happening?" Rose asked softly.

"We could. Or we could stay here."

They looked at each other for a long moment. The look of anticipation in Rose's eyes mirrored his own. They'd been living a dull life for a while now.

Rose licked her lips. "Let's go see."

He grinned at her. Some things never changed. "Can I count on this happening again later?" he asked with an attempt at casualness.

"Absolutely," she said firmly. "In fact, as soon as possible."

He stood up and held his hand out to her, helping her to her feet.

"Come on."

"Wait just a minute." Rose pulled him down for one more kiss, and it nearly derailed his plans to find out what the commotion was.

"So we don't forget later," she said firmly.

He scooped up the sonic screwdriver and grabbed her hand.

"I'm not likely to forget. Get your shoes, Rose!"

He opened the door as Rose finished stepping into her trainers. Just as quickly as he opened it, he took a quick step back in surprise, almost treading on Rose's foot.

"Watch it!" she warned. It was unlike him to be so clumsy, but she realized why when she saw the uniformed policeman standing there, his hand still raised as if to knock on their door.

"Hello," the Doctor said in surprise. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Officer Clayton," the man said. "We're investigating a homicide in the building."

Rose ducked under the Doctor's arm to stand beside him. His arm moved from the door down to her waist, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her waist. Part of her was focused on this new potential mystery, and another part of her was wriggling with delight at the casual way his touch announced a new possessiveness.

"A homicide!" Rose repeated in shock.

"Murder," he supplied.

Rose flushed. "I know what homicide means! I just can't believe it happened here!"

"Do you have a suspect?" the Doctor asked.

"Can't say yet, sir. But we're asking all the tenants to remain in their flats for the moment."

"So you don't have a suspect yet," the Doctor guessed.

The officer's lips thinned. "We'll let you know more as we can. Our people are investigating right now. Thanks for your cooperation. Please stay inside until we tell you otherwise."

He was gone, and the Doctor closed the door behind him.

"What do you think?" Rose asked immediately.

The Doctor shook his head. "Sounds like a murder. A bit unusual, asking us to wait inside. Unless there's a mad killer on the loose?"

"Not the strangest thing that's happened to us lately," she pointed out.

The telephone rang before he could reply. The Doctor stood where he was beside the door, arms folded across his chest. Part of him watched Rose walk to the telephone. Another part thought through what the officer had said.

"It's Jeff," Rose reported, her hand over the receiver. "He's not happy about being under lockdown upstairs."

Together they glanced at the ceiling, as if they could see what was happening.

"No, we don't know, either," Rose said into the telephone. "Ring back if you find out anything, yeah?"

There were heavy footsteps out in the hallway. Voices were raised and then silenced. Out in the street the sound of more sirens began, coming closer and closer.

The Doctor sighed. "And once again our plans are interrupted."

Rose leaned against a table. It held a lamp and several of her fashion magazines. The lampshade was edged in tiny red and black beads, and they swung back and forth as she jostled the table.

"Seems to be the story of this year," she said wryly.

He wanted to go to her and take her in his arms, to see how far they could go. The policemen were no doubt over eager, and they would soon give the all-clear signal and go away. He took a step toward her and was halted by another knock on the door.

"It's like a bloody train station," he muttered, stalking to the door and yanking it open. Was the universe determined to conspire against him?

"Can I help you?" he demanded of the man standing there. Rose cleared her throat behind him. Probably a warning that he was being rude. He didn't much care.

The man was not a uniformed officer. He held up a black leather wallet and showed the Doctor a badge.

"I'm DI Rogers. You've been told of the situation upstairs?"

"We have. A murder?"

"Yes. We're interviewing all of the tenants of this building. May we come in?"

The Doctor's hesitation was so brief that it was unnoticed. "Of course. Please, sit down."

The DI motioned to someone out of sight. Another man stepped into view.

"My partner, DI Cutler."

The two DIs sat on the aging, overstuffed armchairs in the corners of the room. Not for the first time, Rose winced at the sight of the yellow and orange floral slipcovers. They were awful, but not as awful as the original, fading fabric underneath. She and the Doctor perched on the edge of the sofa, sitting close together.

DI Cutler took out a small notebook and flipped it open, consulting something written inside.

"You are the Tylers?" he asked. "John and Rose?"

"Erm..." Rose shifted uncomfortably. Was her deception going to catch up with her? Cutler seemed to take her mumbling for an answer, because he put the notebook away.

"How can we help you?" The Doctor took Rose's hand in hers, and she wondered at the slight tremor in his fingers.

"We're speaking to everyone in the building," DI Rogers said briskly. "We're trying to ascertain if anyone saw or heard anything last night."

"Like what?" Rose asked. "We see and hear a lot of things at night here. A lot of people live in the building."

"This would be regarding the person who lives directly above your flat."

"I don't know who that is," the Doctor said slowly. "Rose?" She seemed to know most of the people around them.

She didn't this time. "I don't know, either."

"His name is Kevin Moore. Sound familiar?"

"No. Sorry." Rose shrugged.

"You didn't hear anything unusual coming from upstairs last night?"

"Not that I remember," Rose said, thinking back to the previous night.

"Were you at home last night between midnight and five am?"

"Of course we were," Rose replied.

"And what were you doing?"

"I was sleeping," Rose said, as though that should be obvious.

"Of course. And you?" he continued, turning to the Doctor. "Were you sleeping with her?"

The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it again. Rose blushed, which the officers would probably ascribe to modesty. She knew it was because while a normal married couple might sleep together, in all aspects of the word, they were not the normal couple she was pretending that they were.

Thankfully, the Doctor neither attempted to correct him nor tried to launch into a long-winded description of the origins of the phrase.

"I have insomnia," was all he said. "I don't sleep much."

"But were you in bed last night? With her?" Cutler nodded in Rose's direction. She squirmed uncomfortably.

"I have insomnia," the Doctor said again. "Not much use laying about in a bed if I don't sleep. I do some work, instead."

"What is your work?"

The Doctor paused for a moment. "I am a doctoral candidate at Cambridge."

"Cambridge. Bit far from there, aren't you?"

"We haven't been in London very long," the Doctor said shortly.

Rogers looked at Rose. "Can you verify that he was in the flat with you?"

"I was sleeping," Rose said in confusion. "He's usually here when I'm in bed. What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Mrs. Tyler. I'm just trying to get the facts down. Your neighbor was killed last night and it's our job to find the killer."

"How...how was he killed?"

"Beaten to death," DI Cutler said shortly.

"Can anyone prove that you were here last night?" Rogers asked.

"Of course not," the Doctor said, starting to get angry. "Rose was asleep. I don't wake her up every time I decide to run out in the middle of the night."

His words fell into a long silence.

The two DIs exchanged a look. The Doctor must not have been high on their priority list, because as one they nodded their agreement and stood up.

Rogers handed the Doctor a card. "My information is on that. We'll be in touch. Ring if you think of anything that might help the investigation."

"I'll be glad to," the Doctor said as he walked them to the door. As he opened it there were signs of a scuffle out in the hallway. A woman's voice was raised in an angry cry. As he pulled the door open all the way Rose got a look at a woman in a dark red housecoat standing on the stairs, complaining loudly as two uniformed officers walked down the steps away from her. The woman followed them, still speaking angrily, but she stopped when she saw the DIs standing there with the Doctor and Rose.

Her expression suddenly changed, turning from angry to calculating. "That's him!" she screeched, pointing at the Doctor. "I saw him do it! He's the one who killed him!"


	35. Chapter 35

The Doctor found his voice first. "What?"

"It's him!" she insisted, as all the officers turned to look at the Doctor and then back at her. She was a woman in her fifties or sixties, with overly black hair that was clearly dyed, wearing a dark red housecoat and scuffed black slippers. One hand clutched the front of her housecoat tightly, as if any moment she would be accosted by one of the men standing in the building.

"What?" he repeated in shock.

"He killed Kevin!" She stabbed the air with a finger from her free hand for emphasis, and a lock of hair fell from the messy beehive on top of her head to fall in front of her face.

_"What?"_

"Oh, _honestly_. You're crazy," Rose said angrily, recovering from her own surprise and taking a quick step forward. Only the Doctor's arm, swiftly raised to block her, kept her from attacking the woman. Even then, she would have simply stepped under his arm, but he roughly pulled her back against him and held her in place with an arm around her waist. She struggled against his grip and hit his arm. "You are absolutely out of your mind!" She made another attempt to move and this time the Doctor lifted her off her feet as he tried to keep her from attacking the woman.

"Are you accusing this man of murder?" Rogers asked the woman in the red housecoat.

"I am! He killed Kevin! I've seen him around at night," she added, glaring at the Doctor. "Always coming and going in that long coat of his. I always knew he was up to no good."

Rose gave up on moving out of the Doctor's grip. She flushed angrily. "Have you been spying on us?"

"I don't spy on anyone!" the woman said shrilly.

Rose scoffed and narrowed her eyes. "I know you! I've seen you around at night, looking out your window. Last month you were leaning so far out you almost fall to the street."

"This is Joan Maddock," one of the uniforms said in response to a question from Cutler. "Lives upstairs in one of the front flats. Doesn't leave home much, but she keeps an eye on the comings and goings from her window."

"Spying, more like," Rose snapped. The Doctor was still struck speechless by the accusation of murder.

Joan Maddock folded her arms and looked very satisfied. "It was him." She jerked her head at the Doctor.

The Doctor finally recovered his voice. "You've made a mistake," he said firmly. "I haven't done anything of the sort."

"If you saw him do it then why are you just now saying something?" Rose demanded, years of watching police procedurals on the telly finally coming back to do some good. "And why are you on our floor if everyone was supposed to stay inside their flat?"

"That's a good question," Rogers said. "Mrs. Maddock, why are you not safely inside your home?"

One of the uniformed officers cleared his throat. "She wouldn't stay in her flat, sir. Said she had a right to know what was going on."

"I didn't realize who it was until I saw him just now," the woman sniffed. "His clothes reminded me."

"You mentioned a long coat," Cutler said swiftly. "He's not wearing a coat." The uniformed officers looked on, ready to intervene if necessary but also looking like they couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"Well, they looked like those clothes," the woman said defiantly. "All the young people wearing those dreadful jeans these days, not a care in the world about how you look anymore."

"I'm not wearing jeans," the Doctor said mildly, but Rose could hear tension in his voice.

"It was him!"

The muscles in the Doctor's arm tightened as he clenched his fist. Rose could feel the change in him, and for some reason his reaction frightened her. She turned her head to look at his face, but instead of meeting her gaze he stepped in close behind her, holding her back tightly against his chest. She could feel his increased heartbeats and the tension in him. Rose covered his hand with her and squeezed. He relaxed slightly.

Cutler took a deep breath. "All right, then. Mr. Tyler -"

The Doctor cut him off before he could continue, determined to end this farce as quickly as possible. "I do have a long coat," he acknowledged. "But it's not one that I've been wearing lately, since the weather has been so warm. And I wear it with my suit. I don't wear these clothes outside, as Rose will tell you; she's tried hard enough to get me. I've never seen this woman before, nor do I know the poor man who was killed. I'm sorry."

"I know what I saw! He's a killer! And no better than he ought to be," she added scornfully. "Sending his woman out to work when she should be home cooking and cleaning and raising children like a decent woman."

Rose gasped in outrage. "Listen here, you old cow -"

"Rose!" The Doctor's warning stopped her, but she still glared at the woman.

"Mr. Tyler," Cutler said. "Under the...circumstances, I'm afraid this leaves us no choice."

The Doctor sighed. He knew what was coming.

"We'll need to speak to you down at the station."

"You're not serious!" Rose in disbelief. "She's lying!"

"It would make things easier for us," Rogers said calmly. "We're trying to piece together a timeline for last night."

"And if I refuse?" the Doctor asked, just as calmly.

"Agreeing to assist in an investigation would be very helpful to us. Refusing might lead to coming with us in handcuffs. The choice is yours."

A hundred things were running through the Doctor's head. He had to maintain a low profile in this time period. A police record would not help with that. He had to keep Rose safe - how could he do that if he was arrested? The blood on the stairwell, the disappearances, this murder were all dangers to her.

"I'll be happy to speak with you," he said finally. "Once I make sure Rose is safe."

"Don't you dare!" Rose said angrily. "He hasn't done anything! It's not right to make him come in for questioning! He hasn't done anything wrong!"

"Rose." He spoke quietly. "It's all right."

She spun around to face him, making his arms fall away from her. "It's _not _all right! How can you say that it is?"

He was thinking about what would happen if he was arrested and it became public knowledge, if his alias was broken. UNIT, Torchwood, his former self, Sarah Jane and the Brigadier. So many potential timelines altered or destroyed by the fact that he was here where he shouldn't be with no way back. Hecould not let that happen. Any small change might result in a change for the Time War, a change in his past. It could result in him never meeting Rose.

His mind ran through all sorts of crazy scenarios. He pictured himself contacting his former, younger self, asking him to take care of Rose. Return her to the right place and time, perhaps. If he was going to be trapped here, perhaps he could make sure Rose got back to Jackie.

And then what? he asked himself in derision. Leave Rose to be killed by the Cybermen, along with Jackie? Hope that Pete found them both and brought them back with him? He could not interfere with his personal timeline without altering the course of events.

"He hasn't done anything! There's no way he could have killed anyone!" Rose had transferred her glare to the policemen.

"Rose!" he said again. "It's all right. They're not placing me under arrest. I'll go answer some questions and I'll be back before you know it."

"_No_." She blinked back furious tears.

"I'm going of my own free will," he promised her. "I'll get this all cleared up and I'll come back. I promise." He hugged her tightly. She stood stiff in the circle of his arms, so angry she was almost giving off steam.

"He's been accused," Cutler said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Clearly they hadn't believed the Doctor was a suspect until the moment on the stairs. "It's standard procedure, nothing more."

"I tell you it was him!" Joan Maddock insisted shrilly.

"You'll come with us as well, Mrs. Maddock. We have some more questions for you."

"It wasn't me," the Doctor said calmly, not allowing himself to look at Rose again. Instead he turned to the detectives, both of whom looked like they wished they were anywhere else. "I need to know that Rose is safe here."

"We'll have a guard posted outside on the stairs, miss. No one will get through to you."

"Please," Rose pleaded, without being sure what she was asking for. "At least let me come with you."

He shook his head. "Stay here. You'll be safe." He bent his head and gave her a quick, hard kiss. "I'll be all right." He gently pushed her back inside the flat.

"Lock the door," he said. "I'll be right back."

Rose was starting to shake. She flung her arms around him. For a moment his arms squeezed her tightly, taking her breath away. As he let her go her eyes met his, and Rose's heart skipped a beat at the hidden panic she saw in his. His unease made her more frightened than ever. He had never reacted like this to an arrest or accusation before.

"Doctor," she whispered, "whatever you think you're doing-"

He kissed her again, gently this time. "Lock the door," he told her again, and left with the officers.

Rose stared at the closed door, hugging her arms tightly around herself. How did things get out of hand so quickly?

What if he didn't come back?

* * *

"Thank you for coming down to the station, Mr. Tyler." DI Cutler said. "My partner will be along in a bit. Comfortable?"

The Doctor had been left sitting alone in a small room with a small metal chair. The table was shaky on its legs, the room was very cold, and he was the farthest thing from comfortable that he could be. And yet, it was still nicer than some of the prisons he'd found himself in in the past, so he was able to force a smile.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"I have been told that you've declined advice from counsel?"

The Doctor refused to think about the fact that he might need counsel. He'd been in plenty of worse situations on other worlds without anything more than his own quick mind to get him out of the mess. And the TARDIS, of course.

"I haven't done anything that would require legal help," he said calmly. He was glad that they had the wrong alias - while John Smith might send up all sorts of flags for various organizations that were tracking him, John Tyler would never register with anyone.

"All right, then." Cutler sat down across from him. "Did you know Kevin Moore?"

"No."

"Never seen him around the building, in the neighborhood?"

"I wouldn't know him if I did."

Cutler consulted his notes. "According to the witness, you attended a party with him in your building."

The Doctor frowned as he thought back. "Do you mean the moon landing? Back in July?"

"Yes. The flat upstairs. The host was-"

"I know Jeff. I didn't know all the people there."

"Mrs. Maddock says you both attended."

"Well, who am I to doubt Mrs. Maddock's word?" The Doctor smiled in derision and leaned back in his chair. "Was she there as well? Did I spill a drink on her or something?"

"She was not invited, actually."

"Well, she doesn't seem like the most friendly type of neighbor, does she? How does she know I was at the party?"

Cutler cleared his throat. "She happened to be looking out her door, investigating a sound she heard."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Was that her excuse for spying on her neighbor's guests?"

Cutler's mouth formed into a straight line. He might not have cared for Mrs. Maddock's statement, but he wasn't going to agree with a potential suspect. "Were you up all last night?"

"Most of it," the Doctor hedged. He rarely required sleep, but that was not something this human would ever understand.

"What do you do when you can't sleep?"

"Read or write. Grade papers, plan lectures. Eat." The Doctor flashed a brief grin. "Sometimes I walk around the neighborhood."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Well, I'm not afraid for my safety, if that's what you mean."

"Do you ever meet anyone while you're out? Anyone who might remember seeing you out and about last night?"

The Doctor sighed heavily. "I stopped for some takeaway at Bombay India. Two streets away from our flat."

"You were alone?"

"Rose was sleeping. I go there once a week or so - I like the tandoori chicken."

Cutler made a note on his notepad. "What time was this?"

"Eleven-thirty or so."

"You didn't meet up with any mates, have a bite and then a drink at the pub?"

"No. We only recently...arrived in London. I don't really know many people. I spend most of my time at the university."

"Your insomnia. It is a chronic problem?"

The Doctor wouldn't call it a problem. It was simple biology. "I don't sleep very often," he acknowledged.

"So you are frequently awake at night, and often outdoors, walking about."

"Yes."

"There have been several other people reported missing who have lived in your building, Mr. Tyler. Do you know anything about that?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't."

"Most of them disappeared before you moved in. All reported by the building manager." He consulted a note. "Mrs. MacMurray. One person disappeared right before you arrived. Did a runner on the rent, apparently. One took off with no forwarding address not long after you moved in." The DI flipped through a notepad. "Name of Isaac. His car was later found in a quarry. No sign of him since." He glanced up at the Doctor. "But you never met him."

The Doctor frowned, thinking. "No, I met Isaac once. He was having trouble getting into his flat. That was the only time we spoke. Rose knows more of our neighbors than I do."

"Yes. Rose." Cutler regarded him thoughtfully. "Is she your only one?"

"My only what?" the Doctor asked blankly.

Cutler raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "We're both men, Tyler. We're alone here. You wouldn't be the first man to have someone on the side. Do you use insomnia as an excuse to meet another woman someplace else?"

Anger flared within the Doctor. "No, I don't!"

"Your missus is a pretty piece, and certainly young enough, but come on, now." Cutler leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. "You're at Cambridge, about to become a PhD, eh? You're going places. And she's just a, what? A bit of a shopgirl. Where'd you find her, anyway?"

The Doctor stood up so quickly that his chair shot backwards.

"Sit down, Mr. Tyler!" Cutler glanced at the door.

"You keep Rose's name off your lips," the Doctor said dangerously. "She is worth ten of you at the very least."

"Are you a killer, Mr. Tyler?" Cutler asked abruptly, and two entire civilizations flashed before the Doctor's eyes.


	36. Chapter 36

The police have been calling the Doctor "Mr. Smith", but it was pointed out to me by my lovely beta that earlier in the story, they were introduced as the Doctor and Rose Tyler. I've changed the Smith back to Tyler because I think the Doctor prefers having his alias be as muddled as possible to avoid notice by Torchwood, UNIT, or even his previous self.

Several people have asked about the two entire civilizations that flashed before the Doctor's eyes. Remember, he was the only one who could end the Time War. When he did that, all of his people died, no matter where in the universe they were. They were fighting the Daleks, so the Dalek civilization was also destroyed. At least, until they were needed for the show. :) He might not feel guilty over the Daleks' demise, but he was responsible for their annihilation just the same. And what is Ten without a good heaping of guilt about everything that has ever gone wrong?

* * *

"Mr. Tyler?"

The Doctor was aware of DI Cutler speaking, but he couldn't make out whether the man was annoyed, concerned or indifferent. He didn't care. The painful memories had exploded out of hiding, unexpectedly and without hesitation, and the pain and suddenness of it all had left the Doctor momentarily stunned.

Now he forced himself to fold up all those memories, to fold them up into little pieces and try to force them back into the boxes at the back of his mind, where they usually remained.

"Mr. Tyler," Cutler said again. With the shock wearing off, the Doctor could hear definite annoyance in his voice.

The Doctor made himself focus. "I didn't kill that man," he said quietly. Gallifrey burned behind his eyes. The consequences of what he had done threatened to choke him and for a split second he was _that_ man again, the one in black leather who was so overwhelmed by guilt that he wanted to die, again and again and again until there were no more regenerations waiting for him.

"So you're not a killer." Cutler watched him closely, and the Doctor stared at him, trying to frame a reply. Would he have spoken in a prudent manner? Talk until he talked himself right into a padded jail cell trying to explain? He wasn't given the chance to find out, because a knock on the door drew Cutler's attention away.

"What is it?" he demanded irritably.

DI Rogers poked his head in. "A new development. See you a minute?"

"Right this moment?" Cutler said in annoyance.

"Yes."

Cutler sighed, suddenly looking like what he was, a very tired public servant. "Of course." Cutler glanced at the Doctor. "I'll be right back."

The Doctor stood where he was, gripping the back of the metal chair tightly and forcing himself to breathe slowly. He was furious with himself. He never, ever let the past affect him so deeply.

He needed to go. He needed to get the TARDIS back and get out of 1969, get out of a too-small flat and this too-small room, away from humans who had no problem living out the same small adventures each and every day.

A feeling like claustrophobia swept over him, and though he'd been managing to keep his feelings of rage and panic against his enforced stay in this decade in the same boxes as his memories of the Time War, he could pretend to himself for only so long.

The Doctor was a moment away from walking out the door and back to the flat to get Rose. A small part of him knew that this would cause chaos with the police and could send up red flags to UNIT and Torchwood, and he didn't care. The pent-up anger welcomed a fight against Torchwood.

He didn't move, only shifted his balance slightly from one foot to the other, preparing to take that first step to the door. He was prepared to do it and damn the consequences.

But the door opened before he could move any more, and standing there was a man in a dark-blue suit and blue tie, holding a briefcase and wearing a cautious look on his face, and the novelty of this person calmed the Doctor's anger and returned him to sanity as quickly as sanity had fled just moments before.

"Hello, Mr. Tyler. I'm Peter Stanton. I've been hired as your solicitor."

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor said automatically.

"I'm your solicitor."

The Doctor watched the newcomer come in and close the door behind him. "I don't have need of a solicitor."

"Probably not," the man agreed smoothly, "from what I hear regarding the current witness. But I'm here regardless."

"Why?" the Doctor asked baldly.

"I work at the law firm of Trevellyn and Stanton," the solicitor said, as if that explained everything.

The Doctor continued to stare steadily at him. "Trevellyn and Stanton?" he asked, stressing the second name.

Stanton cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. "My grandfather," he said modestly.

The Doctor slowly took his chair again. "And to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Stanton?" The Doctor crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back. He wished he'd thought to grab his coat - the room was on the cold side.

Stanton motioned to the table. "Do you mind?"

The Doctor waved a hand expansively. "Be my guest."

Stanton sat in the other chair and peered at the table. He made a face of distaste and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "I was asked to come down by Mr. Trevellyn." He carefully wiped at the table before setting his leather briefcase down on it and returning the handkerchief to his pocket.

The Doctor waited for further explanations, but none were forthcoming. It seemed like that sort of evening. "Who's that?"

"Jeffrey Trevellyn. The Honorable Jeffrey Trevellyn," he added when the Doctor didn't so much as blink in acknowledgement.

The Doctor was running through the list of his acquaintances. The name was not familiar.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Does he sometimes, er... go by the name _"the Doctor"_, by any chance?" It wouldn't be surprising if one of his earlier selves had caught wind of this somehow and sent help.

Stanton was looking extremely puzzled. "Jeff Trevellyn. One of our junior solicitors. I was told that he is a neighbor of yours. He spoke with your wife earlier. Someone called Rose? She said you'd been brought down for questioning after someone accused you of murder."

The Doctor barely heard what he was saying. "Rose. Is Rose all right? Has something happened?" He started to stand up.

"She's fine, Mr. Tyler. Jeff sent me to assist you."

With the roar of worry for Rose fading away, he was able to focus on what the man was saying.

"Sorry, did you say that Jeff is a _solicitor_?"

"Yes. His father started the firm with my grandfather."

"I had no idea," the Doctor said mildly. "And an honorable, as well?"

"Not something he likes to bandy about very much," Stanton said briefly. "He only joined the firm two years ago. As a favor to him, I agreed to come down and speak to you. He says you're innocent."

"I am."

"Everyone says they're innocent," Stanton's face hardened for a moment. "But Jeff seemed especially insistent. So is there anything I ought to know?"

The Doctor was getting impatient with all of this nonsense. "Apparently some poor bloke was killed in my building. Some upstairs neighbor that I've never seen before fingered me as the one who did it - with no proof whatsoever, I might add. And here I sit."

"Yet you've not been arrested and charged with anything."

"Well, it's been on the word of another person who lives in my building."

Stanton snorted. "Oh, I heard about her. The station will be talking about that one for a while. So she saw you and accused you of offing the man upstairs?"

"Pretty much."

"Ridiculous." Stanton muttered. "If there were any proof you'd have been arrested by now."

Now there was a cheery sentiment, the Doctor thought.

"I'll just wait with you, if that's all right. They'll be back to let us know what's happening."

"I thought I'd at least merit further questioning." The Doctor heard the pique in his own voice and mentally slapped himself. Did he _want_ to be arrested?

"Well, there's no point in wishing to become a murder suspect, is there?" Stanton popped open his briefcase. "Mind if I read for a bit?"

"Not at all."

In another time Stanton would have flipped open his mobile phone and begun reading something online. Tonight he took out a thick sheaf of papers and started to read, his eyes swiftly moving down the pages.

The Doctor forced himself to relax in his seat, focusing his mind on images Rose. He felt a faint thread of anxiety for her. There was a murderer on the loose somewhere, and she was alone.

Two hours and fifty-seven minutes passed before Cutler returned to the room.

"Mr. Tyler. You are free to go."

The Doctor stared at him. "I am."

"Mrs. Maddock may have been mistaken in accusing you. Someone has just confessed to the murder."

The Doctor stared at him. "You're joking."

"You're joking," Stanton said at the same time.

"No, I'm not. A friend of the victim. An argument gone wrong, apparently. He came in to confess. The department sincerely apologizes for any inconvenience."

Ordinarily the Doctor would have made a smart comeback. In this instance, though, he was almost paralyzed by the need to leave without making any sort of impression. Leaving the timelines intact was of the utmost importance, and he wouldn't leave them intact if Torchwood found him. He couldn't let them find him, he couldn't let something happen to Rose.

"Oh," was all he said. "Well."

Stanton cleared his throat. "Very good. Thank you."

Cutler was gone without another word. Stanton stood up and gathered his things. He held the door open for the Doctor and looked surprised to see him still sitting in the chair.

"Are you coming?"

"Yes," the Doctor said slowly. "Sorry. It's been rather a long night."

Outside the room Stanton turned to the Doctor. "Good luck to you. I'm glad this worked out in your interests."

"Thank you for coming down at this hour, Mr Stanton." The Doctor shook his hand. "I appreciate it, even if you came for no reason."

"Quite all right. Feel free to call if you ever have need." Stanton handed the Doctor a business card and left. The Doctor watched him walk down the hallway, pausing to exchange some good-natured insults with an officer before leaving the station.

On his way past the front desk Rogers appeared from a doorway.

"Mr. Tyler. If you could just sign a few papers for us?"

"What sort of papers would I need to sign?" he asked warily.

"Just here at the front desk." Rogers escorted him to the front area and motioned to the female officer stationed there to hand over a folder.

The female officer wore a bored look on her face as she held out a pen. The Doctor took the pen from her. As she got a good look at him she stood up straight and smiled, transforming from a tired woman in her forties to a woman ready to attract a man's attention.

Rogers rolled his eyes.

The Doctor didn't notice any of it. He was looking the papers over. Just general acknowledgments of police procedures. He scrawled something illegible across the dotted lines, eager to do whatever was necessary to be able to leave the police station.

"Have a good evening." Rogers took the papers and vanished.

The female officer gave the Doctor a sympathetic smile. "That witness was dead drunk," she confided in a low voice. "She couldn't pick out her own identification when they asked her to."

"She didn't look drunk to me." The Doctor frowned.

"Oh, the good ones never show it, do they? She'll spend the night here - poor old thing fell asleep in her chair as they were questioning her."

"Will she be all right?"

She snorted. "Oh, her type's hard to kill, don't worry."

He smiled briefly at her and wondered why she blushed. "Thanks." He turned to leave the front desk and nearly collided with a uniformed officer.

"Oops! Sorry," he said, taking a step back.

The officer grunted but didn't reply. It said a lot about the police department that the Doctor was not really surprised by this show of rudeness. As the officer walked down the hallway he passed by a stretch of unlit wall - the light was out above his head. Despite the darkness, the man seemed to glow.

* * *

Watching the Doctor walk away had been one of the most awful things she'd ever had to do. Despite his words to her, she grabbed her keys, ready to head to the police station, but something stopped her.

Neighbors had disappeared. A man was dead upstairs. He had begged her to stay where she was. The impulsive side of her nature fought her, but she managed to subdue it. Things weren't the same here. They weren't visiting this time and place, they were trapped here. She could not act the way she used to, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Rose peeked out the door, unable to stop. A uniformed officer stood at the foot of the stairs, letting through only other officers and tenants who could prove they lived on that floor. He nodded to Rose.

"Miss."

"Hi," she said, and closed the door, taking care to lock it.

The phone rang, and she rushed to pick it, only to be disappointed that it was Jeff.

Jeff demanded to know what was happening - he'd been talking to an officer on the street when he saw the Doctor walk out, escorted by the DIs. Rather than try and go back inside, he'd gone to the pub on the corner.

The pub's background noise made it hard to hear him, but Rose told him everything that had happened, trying not to cry.

"Mrs. Maddock says she saw him that night."

"Mrs. Maddock!" Jeff all but yelled down the line. "Mrs. Maddock is a gossip and a drunk," Jeff said firmly. "Even Mrs. MacMurray has complained about her. She's just doing it to get attention."

"Who accuses someone of murder just to get attention?" Rose demanded, sniffing back her tears.

"Don't worry, Rose." Jeff's voice got firmer, somehow, and more confident. "I'm going to ring a couple of people. Stay inside tonight."

"He didn't want me to go down there." She hated how pitiful her voice sounded.

"Well, of course he didn't." The tone of his voice suggested that he didn't know why she would ever think that was a good idea. "The station's no place for a woman. I'll take care of it."

Seething at the suggestion that a woman couldn't handle things on her own, Rose rang off. Her annoyance with Jeff was a welcome distraction from her panic, and she nursed it for several minutes.

The night grew later, and the television service shut off for the night. With nothing else to do Rose went to her bedroom to lie down and listen to the traffic. She knew she would never sleep that night.

* * *

He was there when she woke up. Rose pushed back the covers, blinking at the light coming in from the window. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, and mascara still caked her lashes. Remembering what had happened, dread filled her and was about to jump out of bed and run to the police station, no matter what time it was.

Some slight movement stopped her before she'd even sat up. The Doctor was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, still dressed in the clothes he'd had on when he left the flat the night before. He sat perfectly still, his eyes fixed on her.

The breath left Rose's lungs in one long rush. Tears of relief filled her eyes. "You're back." She got out of bed and walked swiftly over to him, sliding onto his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms, opened to welcome her, closed back around her. She felt him let out a deep breath and rest his head against hers.

"I was so worried," she mumbled against his chest.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "They found the killer and let me go."

"They did?" she said, still muffled against the fabric of her shirt.

"Yeah." He was not inclined to go into more details. At the moment, he wanted nothing other than to simply sit with her, to feel her, alive and breathing in his arms.

But Rose abruptly pushed him away and stood up.

"You stupid bastard!" she snarled, hitting his arm as hard as she could.

"Ow!" He grabbed his shoulder. "What'd you do that for?"

"What for? What _for_?" Her voice rose with each word, and she looked around wildly for something to throw at him. "You _left_ me here thinking they were gonna charge you with murder! The mighty Doctor couldn't be bothered to let me know what was happening! At least you could have woken me when you came home!"

"You looked tired," he said feebly, and that fueled her rage again.

"You, you-" She looked around for something hard enough to crack his impossible skull. Left with no options, she lifted her hand to smack him again. The Doctor, still sitting down, raised his hands to block his face.

Rose's hand tangled in the chain she wore, and she grasped the little heart lock and key and started to pull.

"No!" The Doctor leapt up to stop her. "Not those." His hand covered her fist, wrapped around the charms.

Rose sagged suddenly. "You're making me daft," she muttered, as exhausted as if she hadn't slept at all. She sat down on the bed, rubbing at her face.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was afraid of what would happen if they found out who I am."

"Oh, you are such a jerk," she said wearily.

"Rose?" He looked at her worriedly, but she suddenly didn't want to listen to him, didn't want to accept an apology. She was so, so tired.

"I don't think I've ever been so alone," she said quietly, looking at her hands. "I'm in the wrong time, and there's no TARDIS to take me back home or keep me safe. It's just you and me, and you walked away and left me alone and I had no idea what I would do if you never came back."

He was shaken to the core. He never meant for her to be so frightened. "Rose, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I only meant to be gone a short while."

Her laugh was a mirthless one. "What, five and a half hours?"

He made a quick movement but checked it. He'd been an ass on that space station, had treated both her and Mickey far too cavalierly. Is that what she thought had happened last night?

"I wanted to get back to you as soon as I could." What had seemed so reasonable now sounded only lame. Why hadn't he asked to call her to let her know what was happening?

"What do I do if you leave one day and don't come back?"

He stared at the top of her head, utterly out of his depth.

She gave her head a slight shake, as if she wasn't surprised by his lack of a response. "I have to get ready for work."

He watched her walk out of the room, his hands stuck in the pockets of his trousers. This was why he didn't like domestic affairs. Only this time it was all his fault.


	37. Chapter 37

You guys. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I know I really take a long time in between updates, but that's because my real life is endlessly complicated and exciting. Okay, maybe not so exciting, but it does keep me busy. Also, while it's really easy for me to plot out a chapter in relation to the rest of the story, actually writing it out takes me ages because I need to get the characters just right, put in all the clues that need placing, AND get all the historical details right as well. Hope this was worth the wait!

* * *

They'd made a habit out of not saying things that needed saying. How they felt for each other, what it was really like to be trapped in time, her longing for her mother and his fear of being discovered by his previous regeneration. The unsaid things were jumbled in Rose's mind, all waiting and wanting to be said.

She was afraid to say them.

* * *

Things were brief and strained between them. What the Doctor had seen as a necessary move Rose saw as a betrayal and an abandonment. She made her feelings clear that first morning by staying in her room until he left for work. In the evening he was outside the shop, waiting for her without fail. It had crossed her mind many times to wonder how he was leaving Cambridge so early, and whether it was an easy thing to do.

When she saw him waiting the first night after his arrest she told him not to bother, that she could get herself home. He'd responded tersely that something was still wrong in the neighborhood, and he would not let her go home alone. She allowed him to walk her home but they didn't make more than the most casual conversation. He didn't suggest that they pop into a local shop he'd passed the night before to investigate the delightful things inside. He didn't ask if she was hungry.

He didn't reach for her hand.

She didn't know whether to be relieved or angry by this.

She didn't reach for his.

She did the cooking and the washing and cleaning, but they seemed to be existing in a different space from one another. If they'd been on the TARDIS the solution would have been easy. Avoid each other for a while, or take a trip someplace new to forget about the issue at hand. If nothing else, Rose could have simply asked to go home.

The Doctor, the one who had once loathed personal entanglements of all and any kinds, wanted her to talk to him again. To look at him, to yell at him, to _smack_ him again. Anything other than the coldness she was showing him. This was how complicated, tangled relationships were. Fighting and silence and angry thoughts, and this was why he wanted nothing to do with the entire business.

Then he would contradict his own thoughts by wondering what the hell it was that Rose wanted from him, and how could he give it to her so she would smile at him again.

Instead of trying to find out, the Doctor put himself on a sort of autopilot. He took the earliest train possible into Cambridge each morning, damning himself all the way for so thoughtlessly choosing such a distant place to work and hide. The irony of trying to avoid London and his old acquaintances, only to end up facing the first human he'd ever travelled with, was irritating and thrown in his face at least once a week, when the science faculty had their interminably long and boring meetings. Ian was present at many of those meetings, and the Doctor hated having to look him in the eye. He hated hearing the rumors regarding Ian and Barbara and their disappearance and return to England. Some of the rumors were rude and salacious and he wanted to knock the speakers out.

Ian appeared well aware of those rumors. Sometimes an angry look would cross his face, or his mouth would tighten as though he were forcing himself not to say something, but he never gave more of a reaction than that. The Doctor longed to intervene, but he knew that to do so would draw attention to himself, and that was something he could not do.

Instead he waited for his dissertation to be typed out - what he wouldn't give for a good computer and dictation program rather than one overworked secretary! - and taught his classes and tried to hide his boredom with all things academic and human.

He felt his breaking point coming and feared what he might do when it came.

* * *

It was the end of October when Rose had had enough. Four long days of forcing herself to ignore him had taken its toll on her. That Wednesday morning she got ready for work much later than usual and was surprised to find the Doctor in the kitchen, packing up a leather bag. Whether he was grading papers, writing his dissertation or writing a novel Rose had no idea, and at the moment she really didn't give a damn what he got up to.

"Good morning!" he said, obviously surprised to see her.

"Morning," she said shortly.

Uncertainty flashed across his face, but he persevered. He hated the tension between them. "Would you like to walk to the shop together? I can catch a different-"

"No, thanks." Rose felt like she was kicking a puppy at the downcast look on his face. "I'm okay." That was as far as she was willing to bend, even if she was aware that she was acting like a right witch toward him.

"How long are you going to do this, Rose?" His voice had changed, become lower and rougher, and she saw a flash of the Oncoming Storm before he forced it down again. "You know why I told you to stay here that night. I had to go along with the police."

A well of stubbornness would not let her speak. She could only glare at him.

"All right." The Doctor abruptly picked up his bag. "Be safe, Rose." He left the flat before she could say another word, and she wondered why she had gotten up so early if she was just going to be rude to him. He had extended another reconciliation attempt. Why couldn't she accept it?

She silently fumed to herself as she gathered her bag and lunch and left for work. She passed Mrs. MacMurray on the ground floor, about to enter her flat.

"Good morning," Rose said, making herself be polite and sociable. "How are you feeling these days?"

The shock of the murder had made the poor old woman struggle to breathe, and she'd been taken to hospital overnight as a precaution. Rose had been looking in on her every evening since she came home - she'd been alone since her husband had died and Rose felt bad for her.

The older woman smiled ruefully. "I'm getting too old for this nonsense, Rose. All this fuss and bother and now everyone's worried for my health! I'm going to go visit my sister in Cardiff for a bit. Settle my nerves."

Rose hitched her bag over her shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"

Mrs. MacMurray smiled. "Just pay the rent on time, my dear. I have someone who will be minding the building for me while I'm gone. I'll be handing round his name and number tonight."

"All right, then. Have a good day."

"You too."

As Rose stepped out onto the street a gust of wind blew by. As she fought with her skirt to keep it from flying too far above her knees, she bumped into the postman.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arm to steady her. "So sorry, miss."

"It's okay." Rose won the battle with her skirt and looked at him for the first time. He was a carrier she'd never seen before. "Oh! Joe still away?"

He looked puzzled. "I don't know who Joe is. This is my new route. Started today."

"The last carrier said he'd gone on holiday."

He smiled at her, a nice man in his early forties. "Maybe he liked his holiday so much he didn't want to come back."

He laughed at his own joke and continued on, leaving Rose to roll her eyes and go to the shop.

Mr. Troy had moved up the grand opening date even though the renovations weren't complete. On the far side of the shop, where the menswear department would be, Jim's coworkers were trying to finish building cabinets and display cases. Jim was drawing up plans for the new storefront so it would match Helio's current design. When he wasn't working on that, he was drawing plans to scale for a new sales counter for the till to sit on and Rose and Iris to stand behind as they rang up customers. It was a large wooden structure that was slightly higher than Rose's waist. Having seen the drawings Jim had made up for it, Rose thought it was rather a basic thing to have custom-made, but then Jim had pointed out the elaborate carvings it would have when it was finished.

"Rather baroque, isn't it?" Iris commented with a sniff.

Jim shrugged and carried on with his careful pencil drawing. "It's what the boss wants."

"It does look nice," Rose said, peering over his shoulder as he knelt on the floor beside the current sales counter.

"That's a lot of carving on custom wood," Iris added. "Who's going to do it?"

Jim glanced up at her. "I am."

"You?" Iris said in surprise.

Jim winked at Rose. "I'm very good with my hands."

Work was awful that day. A very well-dressed woman walked in before lunch, wearing a light-green suit, hat and white gloves. She had the appearance of a well-mannered, wealthy woman, but she turned out to be incredibly arrogant, condescending and clearly thought very little about shop girls.

"I told you I wanted this dress in the blue!" she snapped at Rose, when she very clearly had said the yellow.

"I'm so sorry," Rose said, forcing a smile. "Let me get that for you."

Rose brought the wrong colors, the wrong sizes, and had no idea what shoes went with slacks and a blouse. By the time the woman had left the shop, Rose was exhausted, and not even the thought of the nice fat commission she'd earned was enough to make the morning worth it.

To make things even better, she tripped on a crack in the floor. She stumbled, righted herself, and stumbled again when the heel of her shoe snapped off.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, hopping on one foot.

"Oh, no," Iris cried. "Are you all right?"

"It's not fair," Rose said, trying not to cry. Ordinarily this would never have fazed her, but coming on the heels of the worst weeks of her life with the Doctor it was enough to completely ruin her day.

"I know it's not," Iris said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Rose."

"That woman was a right pain in the arse," Jim said from his position at the counter beside Iris. "How can you let people like that in here?"

"People like that are the reason this shop stays open," Iris reminded him.

"Maybe, but she was still a bossy witch," he retorted.

"She was," Iris agreed with a sigh, not even reprimanding him for using a word as strong as witch.

And there was the other reason Rose's day was going poorly. After weeks and weeks of snapping at one another, Iris and Jim were getting along. This just made it obvious that Rose was not getting along with the Doctor. She felt terrible even thinking that she preferred the two of them to be fighting if she was so miserable.

Rose gathered all the garments that had been tried on and discarded. She tired of limping after only two steps, and kicked off both of her shoes.

"Here," Jim said, leaving his own work and picking up her shoes. "I can fix this heel in no time."

Rose smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"Rose, do you want to go to lunch now?" Iris asked.

Rose sighed. "I'll just eat in the back. Do you mind?"

"Of course not. I'll join you. We'll hear the bell if anyone comes in."

"I am right here," Jim reminded her. "I'll call if someone needs you."

"Thank you," Iris said. "If it's no trouble."

"None at all," he assured her. "I'm right here, anyway."

The skylight had been installed by professionals over the weekend. Jim had just spent the better part of an hour moving a shipment of packing boxes into the partially renovated space awaiting display shelves for men's shoes and ties and empty clothes racks awaiting suits, shirts and some truly awful leisure suits that Rose had caught sight of while opening up a shipping manifest.

Now Jim pushed his drawings aside. "I think I have what I need among my tools."

"Remember to say the name of the shop if the phone rings and I don't pick up in time," Iris couldn't resist saying over her shoulder.

Jim rolled his eyes. "All right."

"And the grand opening is scheduled for the third of November."

"I know."

"And if Mr. Troy rings, _please_ come and get me."

This time Jim turned back to face her. "What else would I do if he rings?" he demanded.

Iris looked flustered. "Of course. Sorry."

"Go eat your lunch," he said, and left for the far side of the shop.

Rose and Iris ate quickly, chatting over the latest _Vogue_ magazine. Rose was finally relaxing when Iris took a deep breath.

"Rose, are you all right?"

"What?" Rose blinked at her over her cup of water.

"Are you feeling all right? The last few days you haven't been yourself. Even Jim's noticed."

"I'm all right." Rose looked down at the table top.

"You can talk to me, you know. You've been looking tired. Are you feeling ill?" Iris leaned forward. "Are you...are you expecting?"

"Expecting what?" Rose asked blankly.

Iris smiled. "You know! A baby. Sometimes you don't realize it right away. My sister didn't know until she was four months gone."

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it again. "I'm not having a baby," she said firmly. "We've just...we've been arguing," she said impulsively.

"I know John is at the university a lot," Iris said. "But he's always here to walk you home. It's very sweet."

Rose smiled slightly. "It's not about work. He's doing what he has to. That other night, when they found that dead man in our building...he did something I didn't want him to do, and we can't get over it."

Iris was silent for a moment. The murder had made the news, although Rose's involvement in it had not been made public. Rose had confided in her about the trip to the police station and some of what had happened afterwards, but even though Iris was the closest friend she had, she hadn't been able to tell her everything.

"He...he didn't do it, did he?" Iris's voice was very quiet, as though she didn't want to offend Rose. "There's no way he could have killed that man?"

Rose sighed. "No, nothing like that! Of course he didn't do it! I mean, they've already caught the man who did it. It's just that he made me stay at the flat!" she burst out. "While they took him away, he told me to just stay there!"

Iris looked surprised. "What else should you have done?"

"I could have gone with him and waited at the station! Or I could have investigated around the building." Rose's voice trailed off as she heard her thoughts spoken out loud for the first time.

"Wait at the station? At night?" Iris was clearly horrified. "Do you know the kinds of people that get arrested in London? That's no place for a woman."

Rose clenched her teeth together to keep from replying. Just when she was getting comfortable in this time period, something came up that reminded her that she was nowhere close to where she was supposed to be.

"I could handle it," was all she said.

Iris didn't not look convinced, and why should she? Normal women did not go to police stations at night to wait while their husbands were being questioned in a murder investigation. They sat at home and waited by the telephone. Rose gave it up as a lost cause. If Iris knew half the things Rose had done, she would never believe it. And those were just the things before the Doctor came into her life and blew up her job.

"I know it was safer and all that to stay put. But he didn't even ring me to let me know what was happening! I mean, he can be self-absorbed and inconsiderate and rude, but a single phone call would not have been out of line!" Rose paused and took a bite of her sandwich, aware that she was acting as unpredictably and petulantly as a little girl.

Iris hesitated. "I'm not married, so I shouldn't give you advice. But if you just talked it over, maybe you could clear things up."

Rose bit her lip. "Is it wrong that I don't want to clear things up yet? I know it's wrong, but I just want to be mad for a while."

Iris startled her by laughing. "That can't be the best way to fix things."

"Maybe not," Rose admitted with a small grin. "But I'm still mad at him."

The shop was empty when they returned from their lunch break. Thanks to the new skylight, the space looked much brighter. As one, Rose and Iris looked up at the ceiling.

"That's so pretty," Iris said.

"It looks like it's always been there," Rose added.

Jim surveyed the work and nodded in satisfaction. "It does look good."

Iris was walking around with her eyes fixed on the glass. "It brings in a lot of light," she said. "Maybe I can dim the lights on sunny days." As she spoke she took a small step backwards. The heel of her shoe caught on something and she stumbled. Jim caught her from behind before she could fall.

"You all right?" he asked as he steadied her.

"Yes." Iris looked at the floor. "That was strange."

"You must have tripped over your own feet," Rose said humorously. "At least I tripped on the floor."

Iris looked up at Jim. "Thank you."

He looked down at her. "You're welcome."

They stood that way for a very long moment. Rose fidgeted back and forth on her feet but neither one said anything. Finally she cleared her throat. They looked at her in surprise, and Jim let go of Iris's arm.

"I'll just tally up the bank deposit," Iris said briskly, stepping away.

"I'm meeting the other blokes for lunch," Jim said absently, watching her walk to the till. "I'll be back in an hour. Your shoe is ready for you, Rose. Just don't take any long walks on bumpy streets."

She raised her hand as if to swear an oath. He smirked at her and handed the shoe back to her before he left. Rose slipped both shoes on her feet and looked up to find Iris staring at Jim's retreating figure with frown.

"You okay?" she asked.

Iris started. "Yes. Sorry. I was thinking about...something else."

Rose was about to demand to know what it was, but the shop's door opened again, and a girl with curly blonde hair came in. She didn't look like the shop's normal clientele - she was wearing a very short skirt in an orange and blue plaid pattern, with a bright orange silk blouse. Rose wondered how she kept from freezing outside.

"Can I help you?" Iris asked politely.

The girl glanced over at them as she slowly walked around the sales floor.

"This is Helio, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes." Iris was too polite to say anything, but she did glance at the window, where the name Helio was painted in bright yellow.

"Ladies' clothing, yeah?"

Rose exchanged an incredulous look with Iris. Did she not see the dresses and skirts all about her?

"Yes, it is," Rose confirmed, as the girl walked around, studying the carpet. At that moment, despite the cold weather, the sun came out again, beaming in through the windows of the shop and down through the skylight.

The girl abruptly picked up a silky scarf pattered in a geometric print.

"I'll take this one," she said to Iris, who was still standing behind the till.

"Of course," Iris murmured.

The girl accepted her wrapped package and glanced at Rose. Her skin was lightly tanned, as though she'd been on holiday in some warm place. For a moment in the sunshine it seemed to glow. The girl glanced up at the skylight and smiled.

* * *

Work was awful that day. Absolutely, without a doubt, the most awful, tedious, awfully tedious day he could imagine. What had possessed him to take up a job at Cambridge in the masquerade of a student? He had done many stupid things in his long life, but this was perhaps the stupidest in a long time.

Ian Chesterton confirmed his suspicions.

"This is the most painful thing I've ever had to sit through," he muttered to the Doctor. "And you'd be amazed at what I've had to sit through."

"They just don't pay us enough to do this," the Doctor agreed under his breath.

The weekly faculty meeting, a time when the senior professors chose to drone on and on about academic minutiae, leaving the rest to try and pay attention. The Doctor didn't need to look at the clock to know that if this went on much longer, he would never be able to leave in time to get back to London before Rose was done with work.

The meeting broken up, the Doctor jumped up with just a nod to the others in the room.

"Smith! A word, please."

The Doctor groaned to himself and turned to face Roger Reynolds, a physics professor and a dead ringer for Oliver Cromwell, if he but knew it. Reynolds was tolerable, which was more than the Doctor could say for was also the Doctor's assigned advisor.

"How is your research coming along, Smith?"

"Very well, very well." The Doctor forced a smile. "Just waiting for my dissertation to be typed up."

Reynolds stared at him. "Typed up? Just like that?"

"Yes."

"Most unusual, Smith! I haven't even looked it over! Not doing my job if I don't!"

Once again the Doctor cursed academia.

"Well, remember, Roger, I did much of my research before I came to Cambridge."

Reynolds made a loud, derisive sound in his throat. "Yes, yes, I remember. Unusual university, wasn't it? Gallymoody or something?"

"Gallifrey," the Doctor said through clenched teeth.

"Irish," Reynolds sniffed. "Well, we'll see what your Irish advisors thought of your work. Let me know when it's ready."

Only the thought that he was stuck in this time with no way out kept the Doctor from delivering a mighty insult. The hardest part of pretending to be human was having to act human all the time. And human males in this time period did not just sabotage their employment prospects for no reason. He had Rose to take care of, and he could not be irresponsible.

In the event that they were trapped here longer than he anticipated, he could not burn his bridges with anyone.

So he merely said, "I will," and walked in the opposite direction from Reynolds.

He'd already graded the last batch of exam papers, and he had to know the status of his dissertation. He hurried to the secretaries' office.

The only woman in the room was one he'd never seen before.

"Hello," he said. "I'm looking for-"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Smith!" she cried. "I really am so, so sorry!"

The Doctor was puzzled. Nothing about his interactions with the secretaries made any sense. "What are you sorry for?"

"I know your dissertation was being typed up, but the girl who was working on it is...is gone."

He was not expecting this. "Gone? As in gone?"

"I don't know if she quit or if she was sacked. I've been trying to find your papers - "

He was stunned. "You've lost my dissertation? Before I could even have my advisor read it over?"

The girl wrung her hands. "I'm still looking, I swear!"

For a normal man, the loss of a dissertation paper would mean at least a year's worth of lost work. The Doctor took a deep breath. He could rewrite it very quickly if necessary. Maybe he should just buy a typewriter.

"Please let me know by tomorrow if you've found it."

He left the university twenty minutes later, utterly exhausted. This daily grind of working and teaching was not at all enjoyable. Now to meet Rose at the shop. If she still refused to speak to him his evening really would be complete. in the back of his mind her was very much aware of how ridiculous their argument was, but until she was willing to speak to him about it, he felt like his hands were tied.

As he left the building to head for the train station, he heard someone call his name.

"Smith! Hold the door for me, will you?"

The Doctor turned around and saw Ian heading his way, his arms full of boxes. He held the door open so Ian could walk outside.

Thanks," Ian grunted, trying to steady his boxes.

"Do you need help?"

"Could you just fish about in my pocket for my car key?"

The Doctor obligingly patted down Ian's coat pocket, removing the car key and placing it into Ian's fingers.

"Thanks."

"You need some help?" The Doctor asked the question even though he really felt the need to stay far away from his old companion.

"I've got them," Ian said easily. "Just a few things to bring home to research. A little project that my wife and I are working on."

"Your wife?"

"Barbara. You'll meet her at Christmas, I reckon. All the fun academic parties and all that." Ian grimaced to show that he was not looking forward to it. "She's helping me with some of the details."

He clearly did not want to say anymore, but the perverse streak in the Doctor made him ask anyway. "What is the project about?"

"Oh, nothing special," Ian replied lightly. "The effects of aging on the human body. Not my field, obviously, but Barbara has an interest."

They had walked to the edge of the car park, and Ian turned to walk to his car.

"Have a good night, Smith."

"You, too," the Doctor responded, and watched Ian walk away. To his car, to his family, to his rightful life that had started once he left the TARDIS behind.

* * *

They closed the shop up a few minutes past five. Although Rose kept glancing at the door, the Doctor did not appear. Even though she had been cold to him the past few days, he had continued to meet her. The disappearances and murder had rattled him slightly. Even though she knew who had killed their unknown neighbor, Rose was a little rattled, too.

But tonight he wasn't there.

In the back of her mind was the worry that something had happened to him. Rose forced it aside and waved goodbye to Iris. She started off for home, and as she walked she began to feel ridiculous. Here the Doctor had been walking her home all this time, and what was there to be afraid of? There were people all around her, and they weren't afraid to walk home and walk to the shop and to the pub. They laughed and talked and didn't act like they were in imminent danger. Why should she?

Rose walked at a brisk pace, not because of a fear of danger but because the weather was getting colder and her dress didn't cover her knees. She was eager to get home and put on something warmer.

She had almost reached the flat when she stopped in surprise. Coming out of the building, looking around, was Billy Shipton.

He saw her and grinned in relief, waving an arm at her in greeting.

"Billy!" Rose laughed in delight and hurried to give him a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm doing good. How about you?" Billy set her back on her feet.

"I"m good." Rose forced a smile to her face. "What are you doing here?"

His face changed from friendly to angry. "Are you kidding me? I was doing some work out in the Lakes District, filming a commercial. I come back today and pick up an old paper and see that there was a murder done here in the building! I came to make sure you're all right!"

"Of course we are!" Rose was insulted that he felt the need to check on them.

"I would have come sooner, if I'd known."

"You couldn't have done anything," she pointed out. "Not like you've got any of your big-shot police connections."

He smiled suddenly. "Well, then, maybe I just missed you. Where's the Doctor?" He glanced around.

"Still at work, I imagine," Rose said carelessly.

"Let's go get a bite to eat, then. He won't mind if I borrow his pretty girl for a while."

"He won't mind at all," Rose said defiantly. He glanced at her but didn't say anything else.

They went to the neighborhood pub, which was surprisingly busy for the middle of the week. Billy grabbed a table and placed their orders while Rose went to the loo to fix the damage the wind had done to her hair. She'd done it up in a teased bouffant that morning, and was relieved to see that the wind had ruined that style. She wasn't fond of it. She used her comb to comb her hair straight and left it down. When she returned, the server was just setting their drinks down, and Jeff was sitting across from Billy, talking animatedly.

"Hello!" Jeff stood up and gave Rose a brief kiss on the cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks." Rose folded her coat over the back of her chair and sat down beside Billy. "How are you?"

"Ran away from work early to meet Kitty for a bite." Jeff grinned at her.

Rose perked up. "Really? Kitty? As friends or more?"

Jeff snagged a chip from the basket the server placed before Rose. "Well, friends right now. But I'm wearing her down, don't worry."

Billy chuckled. "Women have different ideas about friendship, mate. Good luck."

"I'll need it. Thanks." Jeff ate another chip.

"Thank you, Jeff," Rose said suddenly. "For what you did that night. I'm sorry I haven't thanked you properly." Tears gathered in her eyes, to the alarm of both men.

"It was nothing," he assured her hastily. "Really! I would have gone myself, but it's not exactly my area. Not much use in that case, I'm afraid."

"What did you do?" Billy asked curiously.

"Didn't do anything, really," Jeff said, but Rose interrupted him.

"He was brilliant, Billy! He called a friend and asked him to go represent the Doct- John - at the station."

"I'm a solicitor," Jeff said simply. "Nothing special. Just the wrong one for that case."

"His family runs the firm!" Rose couldn't help saying.

"What firm?" Billy asked curiously.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Why do people always think the law is so interesting? My grandfather founded a firm here in London with a schoolmate. My father and uncle both followed in his footsteps, but my dad moved to Manchester for my mum. When my uncle died we came back to London so dad could join the family firm. I was only eight."

"So that's why you don't have much of an accent," Billy noted.

Jeff looked offended. "Look who's talking!"

The light coming to the table was suddenly blocked. All three turned and looked up.

The Doctor stood there, looking absolutely furious.


	38. Chapter 38

"Hey, John!" Jeff greeted the Doctor with the cheerfulness of someone oblivious to the tension. "Have a seat, mate."

"I'll stand, thanks," the Doctor said through clenched teeth. "Rose?"

"I'm comfortable where I am, thanks," she said in a deceptively light voice. "Want a beer?"

Billy cleared his throat uncomfortably at the defiant tone in her voice. He was easily picking up on the tension that Jeff was missing.

"We should go," he said with a warning glance at Jeff.

"You weren't at the shop tonight," the Doctor said in a deceptively calm voice, ignoring Billy.

"Well, we closed up. Time to go home," she said lightly, reaching over and taking a sip of Billy's beer.

Jeff finally realized something was going on, and he was smart enough to know that he probably wanted no part of it. "Do you two need to be alone?"

"No," Rose said adamantly, at the same time the Doctor snapped, "Yes. Leave."

Billy swallowed a chuckle. "I think Jeff and I will go wait for Kitty."

"Excellent idea!" Jeff agreed in relief, and hastily scooped up all the food he could reach. "See you!"

"Doctor." Billy gathered up their drinks. "I'll see you later."

"Billy," was all the Doctor said.

"You're being very rude," Rose said in annoyance, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. No one was.

He stood with his hands clenched at his sides. "Let's go home. Now."

The pub's radio could be heard in the silence that followed. The Beatles were crooning _"I wanna hold your hand," _and Rose found this oddly appropriate, even though it was the last thing she wanted right now.

She pursed her lips and pretended to think about this for a long moment.

"No," she said deliberately.

He breathed in deeply and leaned down closer to her. His tie brushed her cheek. "Is this really a discussion you want to have in the middle of a pub?"

Rose hissed out her breath and stood up, forcing her chair back so hard it slammed into the Doctor's shins. He cursed and jumped back.

"Ow!"

"Fine. We'll go home." She grabbed her bag and coat and left the pub as fast as she could. He had to scramble after her to catch up.

They walked back to the flat, Rose just a step or two ahead of him no matter how quickly he tried to move. Neither one spoke. Rose refused to look at him, and he was so angry he was practically sparking with it.

At one point on the pavement they had to turn to avoid a young couple holding an earnest conversation in the middle of the walk. Shifting around them, Rose found herself face to face with a wall covered with announcements and concert fliers.

One of the advertised concerts was for the Bad Wolf band.

She froze in shock for a moment and then turned away angrily. The Doctor looked to see what had upset her and scowled upon seeing the name. He pulled the paper from the wall, crumpling it in his hand and shoving it into his pocket as he followed her.

He held the main door open for her when they reached their building and she swept inside without acknowledging him. She unlocked the door to the flat and went inside without waiting for him. He managed to catch the door before it slammed shut in his face.

That was the final straw for him.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you?" he demanded before the door locked shut behind him. "I've told you and I've told you that it's not safe to be alone right now!"

She looked surprised. "Really? You _have_?" She widened her eyes in exaggerated innocence.

"Why have I been coming back to London early each night, if not to make sure you get home safely?" he asked angrily, dropping his satchel on the floor.

"I have no idea, since you didn't come to meet me tonight." She pressed her lips tight together, trying to take the words back, hating to admit that she'd been waiting for him.

"I did come meet you!" he all but shouted. "And what do you do but leave without me!"

Rose felt that she was possibly in the wrong, and about much more than just walking home alone, but she was not going to give in.

"You weren't there in time. I didn't think you were coming." Even Rose could hear the petulance in her voice.

"Should I have requested the pleasure of your company?" he asked sarcastically. "It's not like you've been a joy to be around these past few days."

His words stung, even though she knew they were true, so she chose another tact. "I can take care of myself. It's not like this place is a danger zone."

"No, this place _is_ a danger zone! You have to be careful, Rose! Someone or something is killing off strangers here and leaving blood behind. It isn't safe!"

"I don't need you to hold my hand. One little walk isn't the end of the world!"

"Do you even know how difficult it's been for me?" he demanded, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it on the floor. "It's a right pain being a student, with demands left, right and center. And here I am like the world's biggest pushover, leaving work early and riding the bloody train for hours each day to make sure you're safe, and when I finally get there you're not even waiting for me!"

"I didn't ask you to do those things!" Rose snapped, kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag on a chair, where it immediately tipped over and emptied its contents onto the floor and over her feet. "Dammit!" She scooped up her things and headed back to the bedroom, where she dumped everything on the floor.

"I did it to make sure you were safe!" He yanked angrily on his tie to loosen the knot as he followed her into the room.

"I don't _need_ to be kept _safe_!" She shrugged out of her coat and stood there glaring at him.

"You need to be kept safe more than anyone on this planet!" he corrected her. He sagged suddenly, losing the angry stiff posture he'd had up to now.

"How long are you going to hold this against me, Rose?" the Doctor asked in a quiet voice. "We have to survive this stay no matter what. I told you why I did what I did. Maybe it wasn't the best way. I felt it was the only way to protect us both. But you keep making me pay for it."

Rose latched onto the one thing she knew was justified in being angry about. "Yes, survive! For how long? How long are we going to be stuck in this miserable time and place?" Her voice broke, and to her horror she finally realized what the problem was. Not the Doctor leaving her to go to the police station, not his over-protectiveness. Not his being late tonight. It was the fear of never going back home. The fear made her lash out and say what she had only been brave enough to think to herself.

"We don't _have_ to be here! You said yourself that you're here in this time, didn't you? You could _find_ him! He could take us back home. You could tell your old self what to expect in the future and he could stop the Time War! You could change everything!"

"Yes, I could!" he shouted. "I could tell him to avoid all kinds of problems, and who to save, and what to do! I could tell him how to stop the Time War! My people would survive! I've thought about it, lord knows I have. My people would survive and to hell with the consequences. But then I never meet you!"

He shocked himself with his own admission. He stood perfectly still, staring at her with wild eyes.

Rose's face turned white. And then suddenly, inexplicably, she started to laugh.

His mouth dropped open as he watched her laugh at him, and the last remaining shred of decency within him vanished. In two quick strides he was across the room and he was holding her head still with his hands and kissing her.

Rose was unprepared for that, and she froze as his mouth touched hers, still open with laughter. He didn't kiss her the way he had that other night. This was a hard, desperate kiss, as if he were determined to hurt her. She could have shoved him away. Instead her arms went up around him and she kissed him back, so hard that she tasted blood on his lips.

"No," she whispered when he pulled away.

"Yes," he countered, and kissed her again.

She struggled to pull away. "Don't you dare kiss me in anger!"

"Do I look angry?" he asked in amusement. She searched his face, trying to find the answer to this latest puzzling behavior. The euphoria he'd been feeling faded. "Are you all right?"

She grabbed him and kissed him back.

"Rose," he murmured, moving on to kiss her neck.

"Yes, Doctor?" she asked breathlessly, arching her back to get closer to him.

"Rose, tell me to stop."

"What? Why? No."

"Tell me. Tell me to stop."

"Don't stop."

He continued to kiss her, his hands twisting in her hair until it fell free of its pins. She kissed him, clutching tightly to his collar as if she was afraid he would disappear. They made some slight movement and Rose almost lost her balance when she stepped on her coat, still crumpled up on the floor. The Doctor caught her and moved them away, still kissing her.

His leg bumped into the bed and he continued to kiss her while pushing her down onto it.

He pushed harder than he meant to and she fell onto the mattress, finally breaking the kiss as she gasped for air. And then she raised her arms to him, bringing him close once more.

He made one last bid for a conscience. They really, really shouldn't be doing this.

"Rose," he whispered, determined to make her see reason and not do something she might regret.

"Shut up," she told him, drawing his head back down to hers, and that was good enough for him.

"All right," he conceded, "but I feel that I ought to-"

"Doctor, do you really want to hold a conversation right now, or do you want to help me get undressed?"

It was not often that she managed to shock him speechless, and Rose made a note to remember that particular remark.

* * *

It was some time later when Rose awoke from a brief doze. The streetlights were on outside and it was silent in the flat. She looked around the small room and was surprised and relieved to see that the Doctor was lying beside her.

"Hello," he greeted her.

She was struck by a sudden shyness and pulled the sheet up.

"Hi. Guess I fell asleep."

"Just for twenty minutes or so."

"Oh. Sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her, and even in the faintly lit room she could see the expression on his face. A mixture of amazement and gratitude and a spark of happiness that she hadn't ever seen on his face before.

She rather fancied it matched the look on her own face.

He leaned over to kiss her, dislodging the sheet that was covering them both.

She mumbled something about being happy, and he pulled back to look at her.

"This isn't happiness, Rose," he corrected her. "It's joy."

* * *

"Tell me what you like," he said much later, trailing his fingers over her stomach. They were lying in the bed, tangled up in the sheets. Sometime in the night Rose had put on her pink nightgown and handed him an old T-shirt and the pajama bottoms that he never wore. He'd put them on without comment, signaling to her that he meant to stay the night in her bed even though he didn't sleep.

It was a gesture that said more than words ever could.

She stretched and smiled slowly. His fingers moved to trace patterns at the top of her nightgown.

"What I like?"

"Mmm." He leaned forward and kissed her neck. Moonlight came in through the window and made patterns on his hair.

"Everything. Does that narrow things down?"

"Immeasurably," he assured her. He kissed her, sliding his free hand down to the curve of her waist and pulling her closer to him. She moved restlessly against him as his hand moved under the gown to touch her skin. And then, "Are you sure? It's almost midnight-"

"I don't care what time it is, anywhere in the universe." Rose cuddled closer to him to allow his hands better access. "Do you?"

"For the first time, no. No, I don't."

* * *

It was the next morning, as they lay there in the early hours before it was time to get up for the day, that something struck her memory. Rose had a small jolt of panic. "Doctor."

Despite his protestations that Time Lords needed very little sleep, his eyes were closed. "Mmm?"

"Could...could this have started a baby?" she asked hesitantly. "I'm not...we didn't use anything."

He was quiet for a long time. "No," he said finally. "Our biology is...compatible, but it would take considerable assistance to conceive a child, and we don't have the proper technology for that here."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Are you sure?"

"I may look human, Rose, but I'm not."

She tried to put her thoughts and emotions into some sort of order. That first jolt of panic hadn't quite left her.

"Okay." She took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop racing. A pregnancy, here and now, was the very last thing either of them needed or wanted. Whether or not he was convinced of the impossibility of that, she preferred to take all necessary precautions.

"I can hear your thoughts racing from over here."

She shrugged, a gesture that he couldn't see very well. "It's just...you say something absolutely is or isn't, and then you're proven wrong."

"Oh, that hurts, Rose Tyler."

She smiled. "Do you blame me? Is anything really an absolute?"

Once he would have thought so. Being separated from the TARDIS - absolutely impossible. Lost in time - could never happen. Rose Tyler in his bed? Ah, now there was something that he would have sworn would never, ever occur, and look how delightfully wrong he had been about that.

He vowed to put her mind at ease, and to not lie to her. Sometimes the two were mutually exclusive.

"There is always a chance a baby could happen, Rose. The odds are incredibly, incredibly low that it would have happened last night."

"But the odds still exist," she persisted.

He was uncomfortable, but he answered. "Yes." And then, after a long minute of silence, he confessed, "I would prefer that it didn't."

"Me, too." Saying it out loud affirmed to Rose just how strongly she meant that. "I can take care of it. I mean, assuming that we...that you and I...will be doing this again."

Suddenly the tension over an unplanned pregnancy was gone. She could see him smile in the dim light.

"If it's up to me, we will definitely be doing this again," he assured her.

She rolled over onto her side so she could face him better. Her world had changed completely overnight, and now he was no longer the mysterious, infuriating creature he was before.

Well, he probably still was infuriating, she allowed to herself with a secret grin. At least now he was someone she'd shared herself with. It was a relief to have those barriers knocked down.

Her alarm clock went off, and the Doctor turned it off without turning away from her. She sighed and cuddled up against him.

"Wish we didn't have to get up," she grumbled. He smelled of aftershave and his shampoo and something else that was just him, and she never wanted to move again.

His hands moved through her hair, lifting it up and running it through his fingers before letting it float back down.

"Seems a shame to have to leave just when things are getting so fun," he agreed in amusement.

She giggled. "I call the bath."

They'd never had a morning like this before, on the TARDIS or anywhere else. Instead of getting ready in private, with no interaction until they were both fully dressed, they shared an easy conversation, Rose brushing her hair in the bathroom mirror while he shaved in his undershirt. He felt free to tell her that he didn't care for the current trend of false eyelashes, and she finally felt comfortable enough to tell him that he looked incredibly handsome in his trousers.

"Do you fancy some tea?" the Doctor asked as he rinsed his face and applied some aftershave.

Rose nudged him away from the sink so she could apply some mascara.

"I do! And maybe some toast?"

"I'll put the kettle on, eh?" He gave a final swipe to his hair and then focused on Rose. She was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse tucked neatly into a navy and white striped skirt. The blouse buttoned up the back and gaped open at her shoulders.

He waited until Rose had set her mascara down and started buttoning it up.

She made a sound of pleasure in her throat. "Thanks." His hands moved, and she chuckled.

"There aren't any buttons there."

"Just making sure."

She turned and kissed him. "Thanks."

They held hands on the way to work, the Doctor insisting on walking her to the shop since he had no morning classes that day. Rose felt light and giddy, happier than she could ever remember feeling. As they waited for Iris to unlock the door he kissed her goodbye, dropping his bag to the ground to wrap his arms around her. Rose responded in kind, wishing her coat wasn't quite so thick. The sound of someone clearing their throat brought them back to reality, and they hastily broke apart.

Jim stood there in his black leather jacket, arms folded and watching them with an amused expression on his face.

"Morning."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Good morning."

Rose smiled and accepted her bag from the Doctor. It had slipped from her grasp during their kiss. "Morning, Jim." She flushed when she saw Iris at the door, holding it open with a look of amusement.

Jim moved past them into the shop, and Rose and the Doctor looked at one another.

"I wish I didn't have to go to the university today," he admitted in a low voice.

"Me too," she said wistfully. "But there's always tonight."

His eyes darkened. "There absolutely is, Rose Tyler. I'll ring you if I'm running late. Promise you won't go out tonight alone."

Rose was proud of the way she restrained herself from rolling her eyes. He spoke not because he needed to control her, but out of fear.

"Promise." She held her hand up in an approximation of a salute. He chuckled and gave her one last kiss before opening the door to the shop.

"See you tonight."

"Bye." Rose locked the door behind her, watching him as he walked away down the street, swinging his satchel in a jauntier manner than usual. She wouldn't have been surprised if he was whistling.

"Ready for work?"

Rose jerked around. Iris stood there, watching her with a small smile on her face.

"Absolutely." Rose realized she had a huge grin on her face and hastily stopped smiling. Was she really so transparent?

"It looks like you and John are on better terms." That was all Iris would say on the subject, because Rose's marriage was a very private matter as far as she was concerned.

Rose smiled. "We are."

"I'm glad." Iris turned away in time to see Jim on the far side of the shop, gearing up to put the finishing touches on a wooden display he'd built.

"You've gotten sawdust all over the floors!" she cried.

Jim looked confused. "No, I haven't. My tools aren't even plugged in."

Iris pointed accusingly at the floor in front of the sales counter. "Look at all that!"

Rose stepped up beside her. There was indeed a line of sawdust all over the floor.

"It's on the rug, too." Iris's voice was full of condemnation.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think anything had gotten over there."

"You need to supervise your work crew more closely!" Iris went to get the carpet sweeper.

Rose felt bad for Jim, who still looked confused. "It's just some dust, yeah?"

"But we haven't been working on any wood pieces," he said.

"Maybe the wind blew it over," Rose suggested.

Jim worked on the menswear side by himself, the only sounds coming from his small radio and the occasional thumps as he finished up his project. He looked annoyed that Iris would accuse him of making a mess.

Iris cleaned up, swept the entire shop floor for good measure, and put Rose to work marking down fall clothing. The work passed in a happy fog for Rose. Memories of the previous night kept coming back and she took pleasure in reliving them as she rang up customers and straightened shelves. It would almost be worth working in a shop forever, she thought dreamily, if it meant the Doctor would keep kissing her like he did last night.

Two of Jim's work team arrived in the shop and started helping him. The telephone rang and Iris hurried over to the sales counter to answer it.

Gradually she became aware of Iris speaking on the telephone. Rose came back to the world in time to help a few customers. Iris was just finishing her phone call an hour later.

"I should have gone into the back office for that," Iris fretted. "It looks so unprofessional, talking in front of the customers, but I wasn't expecting Mr. Troy to ring today."

"I don't think they noticed. They were too busy finding the right sizes. What kept you on so long?"

"He wants to have the grand opening in three weeks! I have to plan it all out. Will you help me?" Iris looked a little wild.

"Of course I will! What do we need to do?"

"First of all, we need to start putting out all the menswear that he's ordered."

"That's all the boxes in the back, yeah?" Rose thought of the multitude of boxes and then worried about what they would do to her delicate stockings. Maybe they could wait until tomorrow, and she could wear trousers to work.

"Does he really expect you two to move those heavy boxes from one end of the building to the other?" Jim had appeared before them in silence, his footsteps covered up by the pop music coming from his radio. "We'll move them out."

"That isn't your job," Iris began, but he fixed her with a stern glare.

"My mum would have my a - er, hide - if I stood back and let two women haul heavy boxes around." He quickly raised his hand to forestall Iris's rebuttal. "I don't doubt that you're both capable. I'm just suggesting that I could get it done much faster with Mark and Ben than the two of you could."

Iris looked ready to argue, which Rose thought was ridiculous.

"Iris, those boxes _are_ heavy. Let them move them over and we can get to work." She emphasized her point by gently nudging Iris back to the sales counter.

"All right," Iris responded in a grudging tone. "They're all stacked up in the back."

Rose rolled her eyes. For someone who wasn't a fan of women's lib, Iris was certainly good at taking offense at a man's offer of help.

The remainder of the day passed quickly. Iris worked like mad on a customer list for the grand opening. Jim and his men had moved all of the boxes over to a corner of the menswear section, and Rose unpacked a box at a time. This involved unfolding items of clothing, shaking them out and putting them on hangers on the proper display rack. Soon she had a very sizable mound of tissue paper, tape and packing peanuts.

She only noticed it was five o'clock when Jim's radio switched off. Iris was as eager as she was to leave the shop, and soon everything was locked up. Rose waited impatiently on the street after Iris, Jim, Mark and Ben had gone. She was just about to check her watch when she saw him walking quickly down the street to her.

"Hello!" she greeted him, meeting him halfway.

"Have a good day?" He grabbed her hand and kept walking.

"It was good."

By unspoken, mutual consent they continued on home at a brisk pace, not even stopping to pick up the post. The Doctor ushered her up the stairs to the flat. He unlocked the door and waited only for her to lock it again before pulling her close and kissing her.

"I've wanted to do that all day," he said roughly, undoing the buttons on her coat. "All bloody day, I wanted to make sure I hadn't dreamed all of last night."

She was busy stripping his jacket from his shoulders and removing his tie. "That would have been one major dream."

"That's been my dream for as long as I can remember," he confessed.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Mine, too."

Laying in bed together, Rose stretched under the blankets and sighed happily. The Doctor tangled his fingers in her hair.

Instead of enjoying his touch and touching him in return, Rose took a deep breath. She felt safe and secure now, with him, and no longer feared that something she might say would destroy their relationship.

"Doctor."

Something in her voice made him stop his hands.

"Rose? Are you all right?"

"Doctor," she said again. "Are we...we're not leaving, are we?"

"Something tells me you're not referring to us leaving this bed for a bit of takeaway." He spoke lightly but he heard a sudden rush in his ears and his hearts began to beat faster.

"You know what I mean. Don't you?"

He sighed and fell back against the pillow. The bed wasn't very big, and the movement bounced Rose up and down slightly.

"I know what you mean," he answered quietly. "And...I don't know. I thought once we made the recording for Sally Sparrow time would somehow right itself."

"But it hasn't," she reminded him.

"No."

"So what do we do?"

"We can do nothing but wait. Even if we found myself in this time...it would change everything, to the point that you might not recognize your life or your world once we got back."

The panic threatened to swamp her, and even his nearness couldn't make that all right.

"So we're stuck here? I'm supposed to wait until the proper year again? I'll age, won't I? By the time we get back I'll be an old woman!"

He wiped her tears away. "I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry this happened. All we can do now is wait it out."

"I don't want to wait it out. I want to go home." Her voice cracked.

She knew she was being selfish. He was just as lost as she was, but at least he knew that when he got back to the TARDIS he would not have lived out most of his life.

He stroked her hair as he cuddled her close, giving her what comfort he could. Eventually, she sniffed one last time.

"I'm sorry. Here I am going on about home, and you don't have a home anymore. I didn't mean to remind you of them."

With a small jolt of surprise he realized that by home she meant his people, his planet. He had been thinking of his TARDIS. And then he came to another realization. The thought made him smile.

"Ah, Rose." He kissed her forehead. "You are my home. I've never felt as safe and happy as when I'm with you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Even in a dingy flat in the wrong time?"

"Especially then."


	39. Chapter 39

**Thirty-nine**

The next three weeks passed in a happy haze for Rose. Her days were spent at the shop but she didn't mind it nearly as much. In the evenings the Doctor was waiting for her outside, and while he declined to talk much about his work or the university, Rose did not let it upset her. There were so many, many things he would not discuss with her, and she was unwilling to mar what was the happiest time they'd ever spent together. The thrill she felt when she saw him hovering about on the street as they locked the shop's door more than made up for his keeping secrets.

And it was so much more fun to walk home hand in hand with him now that she enjoyed the knowledge that she might kiss him whenever she wanted to.

In the evenings he would join her in her bed, both of them still amazed and delighted that their relationship had led to this. He didn't stay with her the entire night - for someone who didn't sleep that would be torture - but he usually waited until she fell asleep before getting up again.

Rose was kept busy at work as they neared the grand opening date, but there was one thing she had not forgotten about, something that had been hanging over her head for days now. After some calling around when she was alone - this was not something that Iris would understand - she had found a doctor who would see her on short notice.

She had heard awful stories about old-fashioned doctors refusing such things, about long, inappropriate lectures and shameful responses. Luckily this clinic was professional, and the doctor working that day examined her, gave her a script, and wished her a good day. Rose went home that night feeling an immense relief that she no longer had to risk an unwanted pregnancy.

It wasn't until after dinner that she excused herself to be alone for a few moments. The Doctor mumbled something in return, and she eyed him closely before she decided that he was thinking of something but wasn't up to something, which was a nice change.

She slid the packets of birth control pills into the small drawer under the bathroom sink, where she'd remember to take one each morning as she brushed her teeth. The drawer held all of her makeup and the Doctor never touched it. They might be stuck here for the moment, but at least she could prevent their lives from becoming even more complicated. Lying in the same drawer was her mobile phone. She still switched it on sometimes, always hoping for the impossible. The impossible hadn't happened last week, and she'd dropped the phone down and left it there.

She switched it back on now, and dialed the familiar number. She heard her mum's voice, telling her to leave a message. She always hung up before it started recording.

Sometimes she was tempted to call a girlfriend, Shireen or Keisha maybe, just to hear them say hello and then hang up. But she was supposed to be dead, and if the caller ID showed her number there would be confusion, and she didn't think that would be fair to them.

And while she was supposed to be dead, she knew nothing about them. She prayed they were all right, after the Cybermen invasion. She did not want to find out otherwise. And so she put the phone back down and gently closed the drawer.

Out in the main room of the flat came sounds of thumping. She'd already cleared their dinner dishes away, and couldn't imagine what the Doctor was doing now.

The Doctor was setting a large brown typewriter onto the table. Next he unpacked a large pile of white paper. As Rose walked over to stand beside him he unwrapped a brown package and carefully took out a sheaf of dark blue paper, shaking it out and setting the pile on the table.

Rose wrinkled her nose when she saw the blue smudges left on his fingers.

"What is that?" she asked.

He glanced up at her. "Carbon paper."

"What does it do?"

"It makes copies. Carbon copies."

Rose continued to look at him with a blank expression.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head, as though to express his sorrow and disappointment in her lack of knowledge.

"Look. You put the carbon in between two sheets of blank paper, and it makes a copy of whatever you write. See?"

He proceeded to write her name on the top page, the separated the sheets and showed her the copy.

"Wow," Rose said, looking impressed, and hid a smile when he rolled his eyes. She knew what carbon copies were, of course. Iris was always using them at the shop when she wanted copies of certain letters or billing statements, and Rose had made carbon copies of paperwork once or twice herself. Sometimes it was just too fun to mess with him. "So what are you doing with all that?"

"Well, I wrote my dissertation a while back and asked one of the secretaries to type it up for me. Apparently she's disappeared and the manuscript is lost." An ordinary man would sound rather upset at such a turn of event, but the Doctor just sounded resigned.

"Your manuscript is gone? How could that be?"

He scratched his head. "I don't know, unfortunately, but I need to have another one typed out so I can defend it and leave Cambridge."

"Is it really that bad?" Rose asked. "I mean, I know the travel part is awful, and I'd love it if you worked closer to home, but I thought you were having fun there."

The Doctor started to say something but stopped. He shrugged. "Perhaps it's just time for a change." He busied himself with the papers as he spoke, so he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Well, it's your career," she said lightly.

"I don't suppose you'd care to, er, help out?" He looked at her now, hopefully, indicating his handwritten notes and the typewriter.

Rose laughed and walked out of the room. "No way."

* * *

Helio's grand opening was thrown the day before Guy Fawkes day. Streamers in yellow and blue were hung up, special pricing had been posted, and handwritten invitations to all their most important customers had been sent. Iris had arranged for catering, and Rose was glad to be finally be finished with the cleaning, setting up and seemingly endless folding of apparel.

"Think everything looks all right?" Iris asked anxiously. She was dressed in the prettiest outfit that the shop sold, a beautiful yellow wool dress with a blue scarf tied as a belt.

"It's all gorgeous," Rose assured her as she ran a duster over a shelf she had just emptied of brightly-colored cardigans. "So are you!" She dropped the duster and quickly replaced the cardigans back where they belonged.

Iris smiled. "Thanks. This has been such a long time coming. I want it to be a success. Then I can..." She stopped, and Rose nodded to prompt her to continue.

"Then you can what? Ask for a pay rise?"

"No. A good reference. I was thinking it might be time to move on."

"Has your mum been nagging you again?" Rose knew that Iris's very well-to-do family did not approve of her working in a shop.

"No. Well, yes, she has, but that's nothing new."

"You need to do what you want, not what someone wants for you." Rose glanced around the shop. The guests hadn't begun to arrive and Mr. Troy was in the back. She snagged a small canape from one of the food tables.

Iris sighed. "I know."

"Iris! Do I hand out the thank you gifts to people or do I just put them in the bags when they buy something?" Melissa, the Saturday manager of the shop, hurried up to them in an absolute panic.

"As they get ready to leave. Ask Julie to stand by the table." Iris glanced around for Melissa's weekend co-worker and waved her over.

Julie appeared as nervous as Melissa. She couldn't stop fiddling with the sunburst pin she wore on her shoulder.

"I've never even met Mr. Troy!" she said in a near whisper. "What if I do something wrong and he sacks me?" She looked behind her shoulder as though expecting her employer to appear.

Rose hid a smile as Iris tried patiently to calm them both down.

"We'll be just fine, girls. Be polite to the customers, ring up the sales."

"And watch out for an old woman with blue hair," Melissa added. Julie giggled despite her nerves.

"Who's that?" Rose asked.

"She comes in on Saturday at least twice a month," Melissa explained. "Always tries to pocket a scarf or a pair of earrings."

"And she was invited to the grand opening?" Iris was aghast.

"Her husband always comes in with her," Julie told her. "And he pays cash for all the other stuff she buys."

Iris suddenly nodded in understanding. "I've seen the receipts. Their name must be Collins."

"It is. Make sure you watch her closely and just add on what she nicks to the bill." Melissa smiled and helped herself to a cheese straw off the refreshment table.

* * *

The grand opening was a success. People came in to browse and buy. Melissa and Julie helped ring up sales. Rose circulated and answered questions, and Iris kept a nervous smile on her face the entire time. Mr. Troy kept himself aloof from his sales staff but mingled with the crowd, most of whom appeared to be on very good terms with him.

It was almost time to close when a tall woman with tanned skin and a blonde updo stopped Rose as she was straightening up a clothes rack.

"I'd like this dress in a size twelve," she said, holding it up to Rose.

Rose looked behind her at the clothes rack. "Oh, we don't have that size out?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I didn't look."

Rose mentally rolled her eyes. She loved the customers who couldn't be bothered to do anything for themselves.

"Let me," she said through a false smile. She checked the rack and there were four size twelves in a row. She pulled one out and handed it to the woman.

"Here you-" She stopped, because the customer had snatched the dress and stalked off.

"Rude witch," Rose muttered, rehanging the unwanted dress back up. As she finished that she happened to look up. The afternoon sun was coming in through the windows. Mr. Troy was standing under the skylight, talking with a small group of people. They all seemed to be very impressed with the skylight.

Rose would never understand rich people.

* * *

"And then she just walked away without saying anything," she complained to the Doctor that night.

"Some people aren't very friendly, unfortunately." The Doctor spoke as he typed, slowly pecking away at the typewriter's keyboard.

Rose watched him with affection. At night he would join her in the bed, making love and cuddling and laughing softly together. After she fell asleep he would leave her, and sometimes when she awoke in the middle of the night she would hear his slow typing. It had been four nights now, and he was finding it slow going.

"I thought you'd be better at typing by now." She took a sip of her drink and settled more comfortably into her chair.

"Me, too," he responded ruefully. He finished a sentence, rolled out the papers, and set them carefully down on the table so he could draw a diagram out by hand. "Oh, how I long for a computer."

"You could build one, couldn't you?"

"Believe me, I've thought about it."

She watched him work in silence for a while. "Why don't you just show them the psychic paper?"

He glanced up at her. "Show it to who?"

"The university. Just tell them it's your dissertation."

"That would be a lot of passing around for it. And a lot of people have to read it and agree on certain points and that's just too many people for it to influence. What they expect to read wouldn't be the same for all of them." The Doctor sighed. "I really, really do not like being human and ordinary."

Rose smiled mischievously. "I can think of one aspect you like. Meet you in the bedroom in ten minutes."

She could have sworn he blushed. But he was there in five minutes.

* * *

The next week was a quiet one at the shop. Winter was coming and the days were getting shorter and colder. Rose put away her short skirts and forced herself to buy warmer clothing. It was an admission that they were staying put for a while longer, and it wasn't easy to do.

"I feel like I'm giving up," she explained to the Doctor one night after showing him her purchases.

"Who says you're giving up?" he asked her in surprise. "We haven't given up at all! We're still fighting the good fight, we're still keeping on keeping on. It's just taking us longer than anticipated to reach our goal."

He was sitting at the kitchen table, his glasses perched on his nose as he looked over some student papers. Rose was torn between the urge to snog him senseless and knock the glasses off his nose.

"How long have we been here now?" she demanded, piling her new blouses and skirts back into the carrier bags.

"Seven months, three weeks, two days and fifteen hours," he answered automatically.

"And that's a long time! Maybe not to you, but it is to me. All we're doing is sitting here, waiting around for time to pass."

"That's all life is, Rose," he pointed out without looking up from his paper. "Siting around as time passes you by."

The statement was so ludicrous that she was nearly rendered speechless. "Is that all you have to say?" she demanded. "900 years of time and space, everything you've seen and experienced, and 'time passes you by' is all you've got?"

"I'm not saying it's a brilliant bit of philosophy, of course," he started, but Rose had already swept her bags up and stormed off to the bedroom.

Well. Clearly something was wrong. He took off his glasses and followed her.

"Rose?"

She was angrily shoving her new clothes into the wardrobe.

"Rose?"

"What?" she bit out.

"What's wrong?" Even as he spoke the words he knew that he ought to know what was wrong, but perhaps he'd been paying too much attention to the exams he'd been grading.

"There. Is. Nothing. Wrong." She spoke through clenched teeth as she closed the wardrobe up and turned to face him. "Is there?"

"Is there?" he repeated uncertainly.

Rose forced herself a steadying breath. "Doctor."

"Yes?" he asked eagerly.

"Doctor, are you happy here? Are you honestly happy here right now?"

"No," he said baldly. "I want the TARDIS back. I want things back to normal. That may happen at any moment. It may happen later. I'm not happy about pretending to be an academic. Certainly I'm not happy about you having to work in a shop."

"Then why are you so calm about it all? I want to go back!"

"We can't go back, Rose. Not yet. But at least we're together." The gently tone of his voice broke through her anger, and she sighed. He stepped closer to her and drew her into a hug. "At least we're together like this. I would have gone mad if I were stuck in this flat much longer and couldn't touch you."

She sighed again as she rested her head against his chest. "Standing still is so much harder than running, isn't it?"

He kissed her hair. "Oh, much, much harder."

The grand opening was deemed a success, at least by the large amount of sales that were done. Mr. Troy pronounced himself satisfied and disappeared, leaving the shop to Iris once more.

"Where does he go, when he leaves London?" Rose asked Iris out of curiosity. It was nearly closing time, and she was tidying up the store. Christmas was in a little over a month, and people were already starting their holiday shopping, which left the shop and the stock looking rather more picked over than usual.

Iris was adding up the cash in the till and writing it on a bank slip. "Oh, he has a few other business ventures all over England. It's not just this shop."

"Does he run things all on his own? Someone so important should at least have an assistant." Rose took a quick peek into the dressing rooms to make sure they were empty. A smudge on one of the mirrors had her huffing in annoyance. She grabbed a nearby scarf and hastily rubbed the smudge out, replacing the scarf before Iris could see what she'd done.

"He's very hands on." Iris paused and frowned. "That last customer you took care of. Did she pay with cash?"

"On her account."

"I thought so! Where is - oh, here it is."

"Five o'clock!" Rose said happily. "I'll lock the door."

"Thanks."

Rose took a quick peek outside, risking the cold wind that was currently blowing around. The sky was dark but thankfully it didn't look like snow. She shut the door and turned the lock.

"Is John waiting for you?" Iris asked. "I can finish up by myself."

"He's not here yet. Sometimes the weather makes things run late."

A quick rap on the door seemed to belie Rose's words, but it wasn't the Doctor.

"Oh, it's Jim!" she exclaimed, letting him in.

"Hello there!" Jim entered quickly so that Rose could lock the door behind him again. "How are you?"

"Good! And you?"

"Fine, thanks." He swept a dark cap off of his head and looked around. "Hello, Iris."

She smiled over at him, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Hello, Jim. What brings you by tonight?"

He shoved the cap into the pocket of his black leather jacket.

"I just came to pick up the rest of my tools," he explained. "I left some in the back office in case there was a problem the night of the grand opening. Did everything go all right?"

"It did," Iris said.

"It was fun!" Rose put in with more enthusiasm. "Yummy food, and the customers weren't nearly as uppity as usual. Well," she amended honestly, "some of them were."

Jim chuckled. "I bet. Do you mind if I go get them? I've got another appointment in a bit."

"You know where they are." Iris went back to tallying up the cash. "Done!" She glanced out the window. "It's too cold to go to the bank. I'll lock this up and take it all in in the morning."

"I don't blame you." Rose followed her to the back office. Jim was checking through his tools.

"I have your final payment, as well, Jim." Iris unlocked the office safe, set the day's receipts inside, and took out an envelope. "Mr. Troy was very happy with your work."

"Thanks." Jim opened up the envelope and raised his eyebrows. "He clearly was."

"You do good work," Rose teased him as she slipped on her new winter coat.

"The other checks are for your men," Iris said as she locked the safe back up.

Jim tucked the envelope into his jacket. "Thanks again. He picked up his toolbox. "Shall I walk you two out?"

Iris was just walking by the till when her foot caught on the edge of the rug.

"Not again!" she said in annoyance as her bag tilted and spilled all over the floor.

"I hate that rug," Rose said sympathetically.

Jim set his toolbox down on the counter and knelt to help Iris recover her things. Rose handed Iris the dropped bag and knelt as well, but her attention was caught by something else.

She reached out and lifted the edge of the rug.


	40. Chapter 40

The rug came up easily. Instead of a loose thread, they saw the outline of a door.

"What is that?" Iris leaned over Rose to get a better look.

"It's a trapdoor," Rose said slowly.

"That's a ridiculous spot for one." Jim helped her peel the rest of the rug away, exposing all of the door. A small metal handle was built into the top, designed to lie flat in a recessed area. It was sticking up slightly, the cause of them tripping over the past few weeks.

Jim set his toolbox down and shoved it away. Rose obligingly scooted out of the way as he fit his fingers around the handle.

"What are you doing?" Iris said urgently. "Don't open it!"

Rose looked at her with in surprise.

"Are you joking? We can't leave it now that we know it's here!"

"But we don't know why it's there!"

"Exactly. We should see where it leads." Jim reached for the handle.

"This is a bad idea," Iris stated as he lifted it up.

"Iris, it's fine!" he assured her as he braced himself and threw the trapdoor back.

Rose leaned forward to see. Iris took a step back but watched with wide eyes.

The trapdoor slid up and out of the way with a smoothness that was out of place for 1969 London. Rose frowned and would have examined it more closely, but Jim made a sound of satisfaction.

"Brilliant! A set of stairs! Where's my torch?" He moved to his toolbox on his knees and started to rummage around.

"We are _not_ going down there!"

"Iris, you worry too much." Rose stood up and brushed off her knees. "Come on, Jim!"

"It's probably just a storage space!" Iris continued.

"Then why didn't you know about it?"

"Or maybe a wine cellar!"

"A wine cellar?" Jim shook his head as he switched his torch on. "Your posh upbringing is showing, Iris. Who hides a wine cellar inside a shop?" He waved the torch downward. "It's not too steep. I'll just nip down and have a look around." He started down the steps.

"I'm coming!" Rose was right behind him. This was more excitement than she'd had in months.

Iris let her breath out in a huff. "Fine! I suppose I ought to come along and make sure you don't do anything irrational."

Rose couldn't see Jim's face but she could hear the smirk in his voice. "You are the last person in the world to do anything irrational, so come along."

The stairs were spotless, a sure sign that they were either in regular use or brand new. A set of fifteen of them led to a cement floor.

"How long have these been here?" Iris looked closely at the steps. "They're brand new!"

"All that evening construction," Rose said slowly. "Looks like they were up to more than just the shop renovations."

Jim made a derisive noise in his throat. "No wonder he didn't want my help with that part of it."

Iris glanced over her shoulder at him. "Who didn't want your help?"

Jim's face was just visible in the light of his torch. He looked impatient at Iris's question. "Who do you think? Troy. Who else would have a trapdoor set into the shop? He hired us to do all that work upstairs and never mentioned needing a secret space in the cellar."

Iris looked troubled now. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Well, forget who did it." Rose took the torch from Jim's hand. "I want to know why he bothered at all?" She swept the light all around, revealing a room with neatly bricked walls and a smooth, clean floor. "What's that?"

In the corner stood a metallic cylinder, about as high as Rose's waist. She moved towards it, Jim close behind. As she aimed the light at it, they saw that the cylinder was smooth but composed of separate parts, each one a different shade of gold or silver. Scrolling along the sides were markings in a language or code that Rose didn't recognize.

"What in the world is that?" Iris asked in surprise. "And why is it down here?"

Rose stared intently at the markings. She raised her hand to trace them with a fingertip, but Jim grabbed her wrist roughly and yanked her back before she could.

Both women stared at him in shock.

"Jim!" Iris exclaimed.

Jim's face was stern as he looked down at Rose. "Don't touch it. You should never touch anything alien. You don't know what it might do."

He had a point, and he was so right that Rose had nothing to say.

Iris did.

"What do you mean, 'never touch anything alien'? How often do you run into alien objects?"

Rose and Jim looked at her silently, which only annoyed her even more.

"You're not honestly telling me that you believe in aliens?" Iris actually put her hands on her hips, wrinkling her linen blouse.

"You don't?" Jim questioned, waving a hand at the cylinder.

"No, I don't! Rose! Tell me you don't agree with this nonsense."

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Iris rolled her eyes, the most exasperated Rose had ever seen her. "Name one thing that you can prove is actually alien!"

From above came the most alien thing that Rose could think of.

"Rose? Are you down there? Rooose!"

Rose quickly moved to the bottom of the steps. "We're down here!"

The Doctor's face appeared at the top. "What are you doing down there?"

"We found something! Come look."

The Doctor bounded down the stairs, his coat billowing out behind him.

"Hello," he greeted Rose when he reached the bottom. "Come here often? What have you found?"

"How did you get in?" Iris interrupted. "I thought the door was locked."

"I opened it," the Doctor said vaguely, which Rose took to mean he had used the sonic screwdriver on the locked door. "Don't worry, though," he assured Iris. "I locked things up tight again. Now." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around expectantly. "What are you lot doing in the cellar?" He caught sight of Jim and started. "Hello there!"

Jim raised a hand in a brief wave. "Hello again. We've discovered a trapdoor, a staircase to down here, and a strange object shoved over in the corner there."

"A strange object, eh?" The Doctor caught sight of the cylinder, made a sound of interest, and took out his glasses and put them on.

"Strange, yes," Iris conceded, "but these two seem to think it's some sort of alien creation, which is impossible."

The Doctor was peering closely at the markings but glanced at her over his shoulder. "Is it? Impossible, I mean."

"Of course it is," she said crossly, now annoyed with him as well. "There is no such thing as aliens!"

"Mmmm," he responded. "Rose, shine that light over here."

Rose shone the torch where he was pointing. The Doctor made another sound of interest.

"What is it?" Rose asked.

He didn't answer her, just leaned in closer to the cylinder. Rose hoped he wasn't going to lick it.

"It seems that these small compartments might be a sort of storage. Little compartments," he mused out loud. "What would their function be?" He reached out and gently touched one, causing both Jim and Rose to cry out in alarm.

The Doctor withdrew his hand and gazed at them in amazement. "What is wrong with you two?"

Before they could answer the cylinder made a whirring sound, drawing all of their attention. The small section he had touched was now glowing yellow.

"I bet that's not good," Rose said to the Doctor.

"You shouldn't have touched it!" Jim said.

"Why not?" The Doctor looked amazed. "It's something that shouldn't be here, hidden away. Why not touch it and find out what it is?"

"Because you don't know what it is!"

"And touching it will help us figure out what its function is," the Doctor pointed out. He sounded perfectly reasonable, which only made Jim look more frustrated with him. Rose could sympathize with the frustration. The Doctor just had that effect on people sometimes.

Iris stepped up to them. She'd been hovering in the background, alternating between fidgeting nervously and glancing up the stairs to check on the empty shop upstairs. Now it appeared that she was ready to take up a defense of Jim.

"If you don't know what it is, maybe you shouldn't be touching it," she said. "I think Jim makes sense, actually. Unless you think you now what it is."

They all looked at the cylinder and then back at the Doctor. The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, er, not really," he admitted, glancing back at iris. "But it's only been..." His voice trailed off as he stared, mouth falling open, at something behind them.

The others all spun around. Hanging in mid-air was a bright yellow spot. As they watched it grew larger, turning into a column of light roughly two meters tall and one meter wide. It abruptly stopped growing, flared an intensely bright yellow, and then split in half from top to bottom. Mr. Troy stepped out of the opening, and the light disappeared.

Iris let out a small scream and clutched Jim's arm tightly. He put an arm around her to support her, all the time staring at Mr. Troy in shock.

"Where did you some from?" the Doctor said in surprise.

"What are you doing down here?" Hector Troy demanded of Iris at the same time.

She was still struck speechless, and could only shake her head as she gaped at him.

He turned to Rose. "Rose?"

She pointed behind him. "Was that, was that a portal or something?"

"Does this object belong to you?" the Doctor asked, indicating the cylinder.

Troy looked amazed. "Of course it does. Everything in this building belongs to me! Which is why I'd like to know what the hell you're all doing down here!"

Iris finally found her voice. "We tripped on the rug upstairs. We found the trapdoor and the stairs and came down."

Troy folded his arms across his chest, wrinkling his expensive-looking suit jacket.

"Iris, you had no business coming down here. It's got nothing to do with the shop."

"Yeah, but we didn't know that!" Rose said.

"Why is it down here?" Iris asked him. "What are you planning, Mr. Troy?"

"Planning?" he scoffed. "I'm not planning anything! I'm simply making use of some storage space."

It was close to evening, but it wasn't late enough for sunset. Somewhere outside, clouds parted and the sun appeared for a few final moments before nightfall. Rays of sunlight passed over the shop, came in through the windows and the skylight, and fell down the stairs and directly on the space where Troy was standing. As the sunlight travelled over his face it lit up his tan, making it look like a moment like he was glowing from within. It lasted only a moment before the sun disappeared again.

"What is it that you're storing?" Jim asked, but the Doctor interrupted him.

"No, never mind!" He pushed his way past Jim and Iris to stand in front of Troy. "What was that?" he demanded wildly. "The sunlight hit your face, and you went all glowy! Did you see?" he asked Rose, turning around to look at her. "Did you see that?"

Rose shrugged. "I guess. The sun was pretty bright for a few seconds."

"That wasn't the sun! This late in the year the sun's rays aren't going to be so bright, certainly not in the evening!" The Doctor spun back to face Troy, a wild look in his eye. "What are you?"

Troy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're not the first one! I've seen people throughout London the past few months, going all glowy like you just did. What are you doing? That's not a human trait."

"I don't think being tan is a sign of a non-human," Rose said in a sing-song voice. Sometimes the Doctor got carried away, but he was really missing the point here. "Can we get back to the thing in the corner?"

"Did you see?" the Doctor asked Jim, turning to him. "Did you see how he got all bright? Iris?"

Jim and Iris looked less than convinced.

"I guess he got a bit...brighter there for a second," Jim acknowledged. "But I don't see how that's a big deal. It was just the sun in our eyes."

"Yes, the sun." Iris seized on that explanation.

"The sun," echoed the Doctor, and another look entirely came and went in his eye. It was curious and calculating and triumphant because he had just worked something out in that incredibly clever mind of his. Rose knew that look well.

The Doctor took a step closer to Troy. "The sun," he repeated again. "Yes. Of course." He looked up above their heads. "The skylight you put in is right over your head at this very moment. And you chose to appear in this very spot." He looked down at the ground and the others mimicked his movements. "There's a small sensor down here if I'm not mistaken." He knelt on the ground, his coat swirling out and then back around his ankles. "And that contraption in the corner is meant to stand on top of it, and the sunlight..." His fingers found the sensor he was looking for.

Troy looked more annoyed than ever. Jim and Iris looked more confused than ever. Rose could sympathize with all of them. The Doctor truly was the most fascinating, most remarkable, most maddening creature she'd ever known.

The Doctor stood up. "You're using that thing to catch sunlight," he stated. "Your skin got brighter when the sun hit you straight on, and I'll wager you're not the only one of your kind in London, are you?"

"Kind of what?" Iris whispered to Jim. "What's he talking about?"

Jim shook his head, transfixed by the conversation.

"What I'm doing here is none of your business," Troy stated. "And I'll thank you all to leave. Right now."

"The shop is called Helio," the Doctor continued as though he hadn't spoken at all. "Very close to Helios, which is the Greek word for sun. It's also the name of a scenic holiday spot in the Argosy sector, isn't it? Very hot, very bright, with its own sun. A sun hotter than the one in this solar system. Anyone leaving Argosy would have to acclimate or suffer painfully, wouldn't they? Unless they figured out a way to gather more sunlight."

He finished this up with a triumphant look around, but his companions were unable to be impressed because they didn't understand what he was going on about. He looked faintly disappointed, as though he'd hoped for more of a reaction but couldn't blame them for being human and thus unable to appreciate his brilliance.

Rose's eyes grew wide. "He's gathering sunlight!"

The Doctor laughed. "Rose Tyler, you are brilliant." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips that left her smiling.

"He is gathering sunlight and storing it in that contraption." The Doctor pointed towards the corner. "Somehow he's siphoning off energy and using it to survive. Like a sort of solar panel." He stepped closer to the device and held out a hand. "And once these small sections are opened up, the solar power is released." His fingers hovered over one of the sections, and he had almost come into contact with the metal when Troy finally gave in.

"Don't touch it!" he snapped, and the Doctor spun around.

"So I was right, was I?" he asked, pleased.

The others gaped at him.

"Were you guessing just then?" Rose demanded.

"Not guessing," he corrected her. "Hypothesizing. Well?" he asked Troy.

"It's storing up the energy from your sun, just as you said," Troy replied reluctantly. "It's too cold here to sustain us for very long. The extra power helps us survive."

"But surely the sun in England isn't a strong enough one for you?" Jim protested. "It's hardly the first place I would go to if I needed to stay nice and warm."

"Well, our scouts were a bit off in their information," Troy admitted. "Bloody idiots. We have many more spots around southern Europe. This was the first place I settled, and I kept it up for sentimental reasons."

"How many more spots?" the Doctor asked. "You can't just keep siphoning off the sun without consequences, especially at the rates your people would need. How many of you are there?"

"We require far less in the warmer climate," was all Troy would say. "We have been on your planet for five years. It has not caused a problem in any way with your solar system. I assure you, we have our scientists monitoring the situation. It doesn't help interspace cooperation to destroy the source of light and life of an entire solar system."

"But why are you here?" Rose asked, coming up and standing beside the Doctor. "What was wrong with your home?" The Doctor found her hand and squeezed it, as though congratulating her on such a clever question. She glanced at him and grinned as she squeezed his hand back.

"The same reason anyone goes anywhere," Troy replied. "Because we could."


	41. Chapter 41

Thanks for all the comments! I know this is taking a very longtime to update, but I'm working as fast as time allows. :)

* * *

The Doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This still puts us all in the awkward position of knowing that you are siphoning energy off of the sun."

Mr. Troy sighed heavily. "I was only planning on remaining in London for another year. It's just not hot enough for our needs. I may as well leave now that our secret is out."

Iris seemed to snap out of her shock and finally spoke up. "You're... you're really an alien? From...from another planet?"

Mr. Troy looked at her with affection. "Iris, you are a marvelous employee. The best that I have. But your prim and proper background has rendered you incapable of absorbing new and interesting ideas. Rather unusual for a human being, in my experience. Perhaps you can take this as a lesson to expand your horizons."

Iris stared at him in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"See?" Mr. Troy asked the others. "Proper to the very end. Marvelous." He cleared his throat. "Now. If you don't mind, I have some loose ends to take care of. I don't suppose you'd take my word that I will clear out and just go home now?"

The Doctor appeared to consider it, even though Rose knew the answer he would give.

"Not until I'm sure you're gone," the Doctor replied, giving Rose's expected answer. "I'm sure you're quite the upstanding citizen on your planet, but I'd prefer to ensure the continuation of the sun."

Mr. Troy glanced at the ceiling with a long-suffering expression that Rose had seen on the faces of beings around the universe and all through time. The Doctor had that effect on people. It was like a special talent of his.

"Very well." Mr. Troy reached into his jacket and pulled out a small device half the size of the mobile phone Rose had tucked into a drawer at home.

Mr. Troy spoke rapidly into the device in a language Rose did not understand. Then he returned it to his pocket.

"Is that it?" Jim asked. He sounded disappointed, as though he'd hoped for more of an alien spectacle.

Mr. Troy looked at him oddly. "No, that's not it. I'm simply alerting one of my associates."

There was a pause, and then the same portal that had let Mr. Troy in opened up again and a tall girl with long dark hair stepped out. She looked directly at Mr. Troy and spoke to him in the same language. After a few moments of heated conversation, she seemed to agree with whatever he was saying and nodded. As she did so, Mr. Troy indicated the others in the room with a wave of his hand.

"This is Helen," he said. "She will arrange for the...device to be returned. Helen, these are some of my employees."

The girl turned her head to look at them all. She had a regal bearing and Rose thought she resembled an ancient Greek or Roman statue brought to life.

"Hi," Rose said with a small wave.

"How do you do?" Helen responded. She spoke English without a trace of an accent. She glanced from Rose to Jim and Iris, smiling politely. Then she saw the Doctor and her face turned white. Rose followed her gaze and was surprised to see the Doctor staring with his mouth agape.

"Oh," Helen said faintly, and looked back at Mr. Troy with a panicked look.

"It's you!" the Doctor said indignantly, and Rose and Mr. Troy both chorused, "Who?"

"You just disappeared! And you took my dissertation with you! Have you any idea how much work went into that?"

"Helen, do you know this man?" Mr. Troy asked.

"He's the one from Cambridge. The one with the dissertation that -" She bit her lip and stopped talking.

"I appreciate that you don't wish to reveal our secrets," Mr. Troy said slowly, "but our secrets have already been revealed to these people, Helen."

"I took your writings with me," Helen said apologetically. "I really didn't want to."

The Doctor was almost speechless. "Then why did you? I need them back!"

"You wrote of a scientific theory that haven't been conceived of yet on this planet. Just a passing reference that no one would even notice, but it didn't make sense to me, so I brought the manuscript home with me to show the...the others."

"We were quite curious as to your advanced knowledge," Mr. Troy agreed, eyeing the Doctor closely. "And I'm afraid I forbid her from returning the manuscript to you, since we didn't know where your knowledge came from. I like to steer clear of anything or anyone that might identify me as a non-human. And of course, since Helen couldn't return it to you, she had to quit her job at the university."

"That is the most short-sighted explanation I have ever heard of!" the Doctor exploded. "It's a new theory so you jump to conclusion and destroy a man's work? How do you think scientific achievements are made if not by new theories and ideas?"

Helen looked deeply embarrassed. "I didn't want to keep it! I thought I could show it and then return it to work the next day!"

"Perhaps I was a bit hasty," Mr. Troy admitted.

"You certainly were!" the Doctor snapped. He was so agitated that Rose could practically feel him buzzing with anger.

"Helen, please retrieve the manuscript and return it to him."

Helen nodded. "I'll be right back."

She disappeared into the portal, and Mr. Troy sighed.

"I seem to have made a bit of a mess in this case," he said to the Doctor. "You have my apologies."

The Doctor huffed out a breath. "So long as I get my dissertation back."

"You will," Mr. Troy promised.

Rose thought that was a bit rich, coming from the Doctor. How often had he interfered with someone's life in some way because they were doing something he had deemed wrong?

"I guess interfering with people's lives has consequences," she said softly, and the Doctor glanced at her sharply.

"What does that mean?" he demanded, and Rose raised her eyebrows.

"How often has the course of history been changed because of something that we've done?" she questioned, keeping her voice low enough so the others couldn't hear.

The Doctor sighed. "It's never easy. And sometimes I don't know if I've done the right thing or not. But you of all people should know I try."

"I do," she said with a sudden smile.

The portal activated again, and Rose couldn't help herself.

"How does that work?" she asked. "Is it a beam or something?"

"It's simply a method of transport. Nothing too unusual." Mr. Troy appeared bored by the question.

"For yourself, maybe," Jim said, staring at the shimmering column in front of them. "And you said there's no such thing as aliens," he added in an aside to Iris.

She looked incredibly perturbed. "Of course I did! You were talking about life on the moon!"

"So it's perfectly reasonable that your employer is an alien, but not that there's life on the moon?"

"Yes! No! Oh, for heaven's sake," Iris finished, turning away from him.

Jim had latched on to the one thing that Iris had previously denied.

"So you admit that aliens exist?"

"Well, it's hard to deny, isn't it?" she asked acidly. "Seeing as how it turns out my boss is one!"

He grinned broadly. "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she said immediately, and then blushed a deep pink.

Rose smiled gleefully.

The portal disappeared, leaving in its place a tall man. He looked to be in his twenties, as tall as the Doctor and with dark blond hair, another ancient statue brought to life. He was incredibly handsome, and Rose and Iris both stood up a bit straighter. The Doctor and Jim both scowled at him as they saw the women's reaction.

"There you are, Nicholas," Mr. Troy said. "I need you to take the solar catcher back."

"So soon?"

"You call that advanced piece of machinery a 'solar catcher'?" the Doctor couldn't help saying.

Mr. Troy looked confused and just a bit tired of dealing with the Doctor. "What should I call it? Its function is to capture the solar power of the sun."

"Well, yes, but it wouldn't hurt to give it a fancier name. Something with some substance."

Nicholas looked confused. Mr. Troy jerked his head.

"Just bring it back."

Iris smiled at Nicholas as he walked to the corner. Jim's frown deepened and he moved a bit closer to Iris.

Nicholas deftly undid some bolts from the floor and began pushing the solar catcher back to the portal opening.

"Anything else, sir?" he asked Mr. Troy.

"No. Wait for me. We'll install it someplace else." Mr. Troy glanced at the other humans. "Far from England, I assure you."

The Doctor frowned. "Just make sure you don't absorb more power than necessary."

"That would not be possible. The sun carries far too much power for us to harness it all. Off you go, Nick."

Nicholas disappeared into the portal with the device. Rose gave an involuntary sigh as he vanished, and the Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her close to his side. She glanced up at him. He looked back at her with an innocent expression. She smirked.

As Nicholas left, Helen appeared.

"Here you are," she said, handing over a thick sheaf of papers to the Doctor. "I'm very sorry to have inconvenienced you."

The Doctor accepted his dissertation with an audible noise of relief. "You have no idea how glad I am to have this back."

"Good luck defending it," Helen replied. "Shall I go now?" she asked Mr. Troy.

"I'll meet you back there. I just need another moment here," Mr. Troy said. Helen moved back to the portal and they watched as it closed up behind her and then hung, shimmering, in the air.

"Well," Mr. Troy said briskly. "I apologize again for any problems caused for you at the university. I'd planned to stay in London a bit longer but without the solar catcher there is no need. We'll be heading somewhere warmer. Iris, there are papers in the office safe upstairs transferring ownership of this building, the shop and all its contents to you. I'll let you decide what to do with it all."

Iris's mouth fell open. "You...you're joking?"

"Not at all. You are very bright and capable, and one day I can only assume the rest of the males on this planet will realize the true value of its females and their abilities. Good luck, Iris. Goodbye, Rose." Mr. Troy stepped into the portal and it closed up behind him, disappearing as though it had never been there.

"I don't know what to say," Iris said faintly, moving to the stairs and sitting down abruptly on one of them. "This is all so impossible!"

Rose quickly moved to her and patted her back. "Put your head down," she advised. "That always helps."

Iris laughed weakly. "Did he really say that the shop is mine now?"

"_And_ the building! I'm so happy for you!"

"It's all in order," the Doctor announced, looking up from his dissertation. "Not a page out of place. Shall we go?" he asked Rose. "Nothing else to do down here."

"We probably should," she agreed. "Iris?"

Iris nodded. "Yes. Plenty of time to think about all this tomorrow." She started to stand up and paused when Jim stepped in front of her and offered her his hand. She smiled up at him and let him help her up.

"After you," he said, and allowed her to start upstairs ahead of him.

"Took you long enough," Rose told him.

"Well, she's a hard one to pin down," he said before following Iris upstairs.

Rose turned back to look at the Doctor. "There's always an alien, isn't there?"

"Too often," he said with a smile. "Shall we?"

Once they'd all reached the sales floor Jim shut the trap door and flipped the rug back over it.

"I'll come back tomorrow and make sure it won't trip anyone up," he said. "But it's a nice storage space down there."

Iris was checking the till to make sure the day's receipts and cash were still there.

"That would be lovely," she answered. "Thank you."

"Let me get my things and we can go," Rose told the Doctor, but her attention was caught by a face peering in through the door.

"We're closed!" she called, pointing to her watch, but the person at the door started to tap at the glass.

Jim let out an exclamation. "I forgot my dinner date!"

The Doctor sensed impending drama and decided to avoid it. "I'll get your things, Rose."

Iris looked at Jim in shock as he hurried to the door and unlocked it.

"Come in from the cold!" he said, and ushered two women inside. "Were you waiting long?"

"Long enough to come looking for you," the younger of the women said.

"I'm so sorry!" Jim looked around. "Let me introduce you! This is Iris," he said, and Iris forced a smile to her lips. The women both looked immediately interested. "This is my sister," Jim continued, "and my mother. We meant to have dinner and do some Christmas shopping tonight. Mum, there's Iris." He turned to Rose. "And this is -"

"Rose," his mother said in a low voice, staring at Rose with wide blue eyes.

Rose started at the unexpected recognition. "Do I know you?" she asked in surprise.

"You're Rose Tyler." Jim's mother looked both amazed and frightened.

Rose looked from Jim to his mother in utter confusion. She didn't know - abruptly the blue eyes sparked a recognition in Rose.

"Oh my..." Rose's hand lifted up to cover her mouth as she stared at the woman. She was almost as tall as Rose, and very, very young to have a grown son. Her eyes were clear blue and her hair was very dark and straight, and she was staring at Rose as if she'd seen a ghost.

It had been a very long time, and she had aged, but Rose could still clearly see the girl she'd met years ago. "Nancy?" Rose said tentatively. "Is it you?"

"I never thought I'd see you again!" And Nancy flung herself forward to give Rose a massive hug.

"I don't believe it!" Rose cried, looking Nancy over. "You...you grew! You look terrific!" Realization finally struck.

"You're Jamie!" she all but shrieked, turning to her friend Jim. "You're Jamie." She stared in fascination at the tall man who had once been a small boy in a gas mask.

"I go by Jim now," he said cautiously. "Mum?"

"You don't look any older," Nancy whispered. "You look just the same as the day I said goodbye to you. How can you look just the same as all those years ago? Are you alone? Are the Doctor and Captain Harkness...are they with you?"

"Captain Harkness isn't," Rose said, forcing herself to smile at the mention of Jack. "But the Doctor is. We're still together."

"This is the Rose who helped save me when I was a boy?" Jim demanded. "You said she wasn't that much older than you were. She's younger than I am."

"Time is complicated," Rose murmured. She was saved by anything else by the Doctor's voice.

"Are you ready?" he asked, coming back to the front of the shop carrying her coat and her bag. "Hello!" he said upon seeing the two women. "I'm the Doctor."

"You're not!" Nancy protested. "What is going on?"

"I am," he corrected her, rather surprised at the denial. "Who might you be?"

Rose swallowed. "She's Nancy."

"Eh?"

"She's Nancy?"

"Hello, Nancy. How do you know Rose?"

"Doctor. Look at her. _Look_. It's _Nancy_."

He mentally ran down all the Nancys he knew

Nancy. Nancy Drew? Nancy Sinatra? Suddenly he saw it in her eyes and he was jerked back to a war-torn darkness with a frightening child asking for his mummy. "_Nancy_. Good heavens, it's you."

Nancy shook her head, staring at him. "You're not the Doctor."

"Of course I am." The Doctor suddenly made the mental leap that Rose had made. He turned to the blond man standing beside them. "If this is Nancy, you must be Jamie! You've grown."

"She's far too young to have been there," Jim said, "and you don't recognize him."

"No," Nancy agreed slowly, looking troubled and confused.

The Doctor sighed. "See?" he said quietly to Rose. "This is why I try never return to return to the same place. All sorts of awkward questions come up. Why do you look different? You were older, younger, blonder, last time-"

"Blonder?" Rose couldn't help interrupting, a sparkle in her eyes.

"Never mind that," the Doctor said sternly. "It's me, Nancy," he said. "I changed a bit after an...an, er, incident, but I swear I'm the same man you met that night. My people have the ability to alter appearances on occasion. I couldn't help it, but you must admit this is an improvement! I still remember you, though. And you, Jamie! How are you liking pop music?"

Jim smiled faintly. "Love it. There was a man," he said tentatively. "A tall man. Dark. He gave me a hug. Everybody lives. He said that in my ear. Everybody lives."

Rose nodded. "This is him."

The Doctor smiled. "Best day of my life. Just that once, everybody lived."

Jim frowned. "I don't remember much, but he wasn't like you."

"As I said, I've changed a bit."

"He's always remembered your black leather jacket, though," Nancy said suddenly. "That's why he wears his. Some things you don't forget, even as a small boy."

Jim looked embarrassed and tugged at his black leather jacket. Rose smiled as she suddenly saw the similarity between Jim's jacket and the one the Doctor used to wear.

"And this is my Rose!" Nancy said, tugging her daughter, who was listening intently, forward. "I remarried after the war and had Rose. We named her for you," she said to Rose. "If there was a nice girl's name for Doctor, we would have added that, too."

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you!" Rose's cheeks were pink with embarrassment. "Nancy, thank you."

"You saved us," Nancy said simply. "And you were right. We won. We did it."

"See?" Rose hugged Nancy and smiled. "It was all worth it, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was. Worth doing it all over again, just to have Jamie back. He's going to be an architect, did he tell you? He took sometime off to work and save up some money, but in the spring he goes back too finish his degree. No more carpentry work with his dad."

"That's enough bragging, Mum."

"It'll never be enough."

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent at home. They said goodbye to Jim and Nancy, promising to stay in touch. A bewildered Iris kept asking what was going on, and how Rose had known Jim as a child, and what could she possibly have been doing in London during the war?

Jim promised to answer her questions the next evening, and Rose promised to return in the morning to help sort out what was to be done with the shop.

The Doctor put together some soup and sandwiches for dinner as Rose changed out of her work clothes. They watched television while they ate, and the Doctor couldn't help noticing that Rose was not her usual chatty self.

In fact, she didn't speak at all as they ate.

The Doctor waited until they had cleared the dishes back into the kitchen to speak.

"All right. Let's have it."

Rose glanced at him from the sink where she was washing up. "What?"

He crossed his arms in the doorway of the kitchen, frowning at her.

"Let me have it. Something is bothering you. You've been silent all night. What's wrong?"

She turned back to the dishes. "Nothing."

"I know you, Rose Tyler. You were fine until we saw Nancy. What is it?"

If he had been combative, or uncaring, or even argumentative, she could have withstood it. But he asked her in the gentlest of voices, and she broke. Tears filled her eyes, and she turned her head so he wouldn't see them.

"Nancy aged," she said, staring down into the sink. "Jamie grew up."

"That's usually how things work, yes."

"That's _always_ how it works," she snapped, tossing down the brush and turning to face him. "Unless you're some Time Lord who lives forever."

"Not forever," he objected, but she continued as if she hadn't heard him. Maybe she really hadn't.

"I'm human, though, aren't I? I don't get nine extra lives or however many your lot gets. I'm gonna age and get old and die, and it's probably all gonna happen while we're stuck here! If I'm lucky you'll stick around until I do die. Make sure I get a nice burial."

"Rose," he said, genuinely shocked. "Rose. Don't talk like that."

"Why not?" she demanded. "Because you don't want to be upset? Well, too damn bad. I _want_ you to be upset! I'm upset about it, why shouldn't you be? I don't want to die and get left behind by you!"

"Rose, that's enough!" He tried to reach for her but she danced away.

"How long will you want to stay with me like that? How long until you get tired of watching me get older and older?"

"I will never tire of you!"

"You say that now! What about when I'm old and gray and on death's doorstep?"

"I don't give a damn if you stay like this forever or if you get old and gray and wrinkled," he snapped, grabbing her by her arms. "I will love you no matter what."

His words, dropped out of the sky the way they were, took the wind out of Rose's anger. She stood limply in his grasp, staring at him with her mouth open.

"What?" he said defensively. "Surely you've picked up on that by now?"

"Picked up on what?" she asked, her voice squeaking just a bit.

"Picked up on the fact that Rose Tyler, I love you."

The actions between them were there, had been for a long time, but the words had never been spoken. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of reluctance to admit they were in the midst of something bigger than he'd ever encountered. But he did love her. So, so much.

"Oh," she whispered. "Oh."

"I reckon for about as long as I've known you," he added for good measure. "How could I help but fall in love with you? And every moment we've spent together only confirmed it. It doesn't matter in the slightest what happens to us next, as long as we're together."

"Oh," she said again, still staring at him in shock.

The Doctor was a man full of self-confidence, but he was finding this conversation not to be going the way he had perhaps envisioned it going.

"Anything that you, er, wish to say to me?" he suggested.

She smiled up at him, and he suddenly realized that she was crying. "I love you," she said through her tears. "I've loved you for so, so long."

He smiled back. "Quite right, too."


	42. Chapter 42

Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! It has been far, far too long since I started this fic. Even though updates are few and far between lately, I can honestly say I think about it each day and work on it when I have a free moment. Thanks for sticking with it.

* * *

Three weeks after the Doctor told Rose Tyler that he loved her, he forgot all about her.

The day gave no indication of ending that way. Rose woke up to find him already gone. She stretched and yawned her way out of bed, eventually ambling out to the rest of the flat. There was a damp towel in the bath, the remains of toast and tea in the kitchen. The morning papers were spread out on the table.

Rose sighed, at once charmed and annoyed by this display of male domesticity. He had all the time in the world, she thought to herself. Surely he could manage to pick up his breakfast before leaving.

She got ready for work as she watched the morning news shows. No mention of the disappearances around London, she noted. The police had stopped by the previous week to see if anyone remembered anything about the postman's disappearance, but had come up with no new clues. The replacement postman Rose had described was found working on the other side of the city, and proved just as unhelpful.

The Doctor had reminded Rose about the importance of not walking around on her own, especially in the evenings. She'd agreed to make sure she was never alone, all the while trying not to roll her eyes. Sometimes the Doctor reacted in a way far out of proportion to the situation.

She drank the last of her tea, brushed her teeth, and peered out the window for a weather check. It looked cold and grey, and snow was falling. Rose put on boots, stowed her shoes in a bag, and headed out the door while buttoning up her coat.

Mrs. MacMurray was already up and about, fussing at the snow in the front hallway.

"Just look at this slush!" she complained to Rose as she wielded a broom. "I need to order new mats for the floors again."

"And it hasn't even picked up, has it?" Rose glanced outside.

"It's not supposed to be too bad today, but you mind the snow anyway. Don't forget your hat!"

Rose laughed and went outside, pulling up the hood of her coat.

Iris was already at the shop. She let Rose in, and like most of the previous three work weeks, they spent their free time discussing aliens, Jim, and what Iris was going to do now that the shop belonged to her.

"I still can't believe it!" Iris said. "It's like a dream."

"A nice dream," Rose added as she unpacked a new shipment of stock.

"It's just all so much at once. The shop, and aliens, and Jim." Iris's voice trailed off as she said Jim's name, and she smiled. A moment later a troubled look came over her face as she unlocked the till. "My mother doesn't think it's suitable for a woman to be in business like this."

Iris had completed the necessary paperwork to have the shop put in her name, just as Mr. Troy had wanted. She now owned it outright and wholly in her name. It was a circumstance that her mother had not been happy about.

"Your mum is a pain," Rose stated. "Maybe if you'd tell her that once in a while she'd stop bothering you."

Iris looked shocked at the mere suggestion. "I don't have that kind of relationship with her. It's bad enough I'm...seeing someone she hasn't met yet."

Rose felt a flare of defensiveness on Jim's behalf. "Does she think Jamie is beneath you?" Despite calling the grown man Jim for months, the moment she'd learned who he was she'd started calling him Jamie.

"No. He's going back to school, and she respects that. I just don't know that I'm ready for him to meet my family," Iris confessed in a rush. "His parents are so nice, and his sister is so sweet, and my family loves me but they can be a bit cold sometimes."

"My mum wasn't too crazy about the Doctor when they first met," Rose confided with a trace of a sad smile. "She thought he was too old for me. And then we left and didn't come home for a year, so that didn't make her any happier. It was an accident!" she added hastily upon seeing Iris's shocked face. "I wasn't meant to be gone longer than a day. The Doctor's no good at driving." Rose forced away the pang she always felt when she thought about Jackie.

Iris had truly been trying to understand how the Doctor looked like a man but was really an alien. It had taken several days for her to grasp the mechanics of time travel and how Rose had met Jim as a child with the Doctor who looked like a different man. As a matter of fact, it had taken her a few days to understand why Rose's John Smith was now called the Doctor, and why he preferred not to be known as the Doctor in public.

Rose suspected Iris sometimes wished she had never hired her on. Life would have remained much simpler. Poor Iris.

Iris just nodded and changed the subject, which was what she usually did when confronted with something she could not wrap her mind around.

"My mother believes that the only suitable profession for a woman is either a teacher or a wife and mother. And she's not too keen on teaching."

"You're a grown woman, Iris! You're capable of doing whatever you want to do!" There were times that Rose could not wait for the women's rights movement to fully kick in.

"I know. The right thing to do is just ignore her. Goodness knows that's what my father does."

Rose smothered a laugh.

Iris decided to change the subject again. "Shall we think about decorating for Christmas? And then we can go over your new pay rise."

"My new what?" Rose repeated.

Iris smiled. "As my new assistant manager you'll have a few more responsibilities."

"I don't know what to say." Rose was surprised to find herself actually speechless.

"Just say you're willing to hire some new help for the weekends. Those two girls have got to go. Do you see how messy the sales floor is on Monday mornings?"

Rose managed a smile, but she was confused by her own ambivalent response. Of course a promotion and a pay increase were wonderful. But were they a silent admission that she wouldn't be going back to her own time?

As they locked the shop up for the night, Rose couldn't help peeking outside for a glimpse of the Doctor. He was nowhere to be found. Not for the first time, she wished that mobile phones weren't still decades away. What she wouldn't give for a quick text over the course of the day, just to make sure all was well.

"Is he not here yet?" Iris asked as she added up the day's cash. "That's not like him."

"No," Rose agreed. "Maybe the train's running late." She waved to Mr. Shaw, who ran the bakery across the street, and closed and locked the door.

"I didn't see him walk you in this morning. Did I miss him? I know he doesn't like you walking about alone."

"He left before I woke up. He'll probably be late coming by."

Rose sighed to herself. As insistent as she was that the Doctor didn't need to watch over her, it stung that he could so easily leave her on her own. Although there hadn't been any more disappearances around their building, the police had not come up with any answers.

The Doctor still hadn't appeared by the time they were ready to leave the shop. Rose slowly buttoned up her coat as Iris locked the back door to the shop.

"I'm meeting Jim for dinner," Iris said, "but let me -"

"No." Rose interrupted her before she could finish her thought. "I'll be fine. The flat's just around the corner."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am! Have fun tonight." Rose waved as Iris headed off in the opposite direction. Her smile faded as Iris disappeared from sight. The Doctor had always met her at night, no matter the cost or inconvenience of traveling over an hour away.

Night came earlier now that it was winter, and the evening was cold. Rose adjusted her hat and scarf, glad that the snow had stopped, and set off, deciding to stop and grab something to eat at the local chippy. The streets were momentarily deserted, and she hadn't gone more than a few meters when she felt someone rush by her and a tug on her arm where her handbag hung.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, turning in the direction she was being pulled.

A tall figure dressed in dark clothing was holding on to her bag. He grabbed her arm roughly and growled, "Shut up!"

The dark of the clothing made him blend in with the night, but Rose could clearly see the flash of a knife in his hand.

She struggled despite the warning, and for her trouble was hauled against his chest, the knife cutting into her cheek.

The fiery pain cut through her shock. Something hot began to build in her chest, and Rose broke away and whirled around to face her attacker. He in turn gave a yelp of surprise, releasing both her arm and her handbag.

Her vision was suddenly bright and golden. "You will not harm me or anyone else," Rose stated clearly, and the knife in his hand melted, simply melted, into a puddle of silver goo that made him shout as it burned his skin.

He looked back at Rose and there was just enough light from the street lamps for her to see fear cross his features. He turned and ran, bumping into a group of people that had just entered the street.

Shaking, Rose headed for the safety of the flat. As she hurried past a newsstand she caught sight of the evening's headlines. To her shock the letters rearranged themselves as she watched.

Rose sobbed out her breath and started to run.

* * *

She was fast asleep that night when the bedroom door flew open and the light switched on.

"Rose?"

"Hey!" she mumbled, hiding her head under the pillow.

The light switched off again. She caught a glimpse of him in the moonlight before closing her eyes again.

"Oh. Sorry," the Doctor said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I didn't mean to be so late. Are you all right?"

"I was sleeping," she muttered into the pillow.

"I am so sorry I wasn't there tonight," he said to the back of her head. "I know I promised to always take care of came up with a student, and I got into a discussion about the merits of - You don't care about that," he finished hastily as she lifted her head to glare at him in the moonlight. "Sorry."

Rose gave up. "What time is it?" She rolled over to look at the clock and groaned. "Two-thirty! What on earth have you been doing?"

"I just told you. But it's the trip home that takes forever. I caught a ride with one of our cabbie friends."

Rose sighed. "Doctor, you really can't keep this up. It's ridiculous to travel an hour each way for a job you don't even need. I don't care if it _is_ Cambridge. I mean, you can calculate and theorize rings around everyone there."

The Doctor kicked off his trainers and settled down beside her on the bed.

"I know. I'll be done in a few weeks, and then I can move on."

"Why don't you just, I dunno, leave? Why does it matter if you defend anything or not?"

"I don't want to do anything out of the ordinary, and leaving at this end stage will definitely be out of the ordinary. If we do end up staying in this time, I want to leave as little for Torchwood to trace me as possible. I'd rather not do anything that might trigger a response from them."

She propped herself up on one elbow. "Well, then we're all right. It's not like there's anything at Cambridge that could be a problem for us."

He glanced at her and then looked away quickly. "No, of course not."

"Doctor."

"Mmmm?"

"What's wrong?" She knew him well enough that she could tell there was something about this entire academic pursuit that was bothering him.

"Nothing. But I was thinking...London is a bit busy, isn't it, what with my former and future selves roaming around, and Torchwood ready to jump. What if we relocated to somewhere quieter while we wait this time period out?"

Rose stared at him. "What? What about my job?"

"You can get a job anywhere, Rose."

"Because I'm just a shopgirl?"

It was late, and he was very hungry, but he was by no means a stupid man. He backtracked quickly.

"You are not just a shopgirl. You know I would never say that. But I reckon you wouldn't have any trouble finding a job."

"I like the one I've got. Iris made me assistant manager today."

"No, really? But that's brilliant!"

"_With_ a pay increase!" She named a figure that made him laugh.

"Rose Tyler, you're amazing! Far be it from me to interfere with your career."

"Shut up," she said, pleased that he was so proud of her.

"We won't think about moving, then," he decided. "Plenty of time once I leave uni to plan our next step. Perhaps we'll have a new development on the TARDIS by then."

"Oh, I hope so."

"Oh! Christmas is coming," he said suddenly. "The department is having a party week after next. Fancy going?"

She was seized with terror. "To Cambridge? Me? To meet all the professors and scientists? I don't think so."

"It'll be brilliant! They'll love you."

Rose clutched the covers to her chest. "There's no way! I never even finished school!"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Are you mad? I can't! There's no way!"

"It won't be _at_ Cambridge. I believe the venue will be a bit closer to home."

"That's not why I don't want to go!"

"It's late. We'll talk about it later," he compromised.

They lay together in a peaceful silence for a few moments.

"I'm sorry I left you to go home alone," the Doctor said quietly. "I shouldn't leave you alone like that. I made you promise to wait for me and then I never showed up."

"Oh, I've wandered off plenty of times without a problem," Rose murmured sleepily.

He snorted. "Hardly without a problem," he muttered.

"I heard that. _Mostly_ without a problem," she amended.

"I'll try to be better. We still don't now what's causing all these disappearances."

"I'm fine on my own, Doctor. It's not a big neighborhood. And no one's gone missing for weeks now. But I promise I'll be super careful." Her voice broke a little, but she hoped he didn't notice.

He didn't. "There's just something about this whole business I don't like."

"Maybe you could work it out on your own," Rose suggested. "Out in the flat. While I sleep."

"Well. Plenty of time to worry about all of that," he said as if she hadn't spoken. "I'm starving! Fancy a bit of pizza?" he asked hopefully.

She pulled the covers over her head. Go away."

He laughed and pulled the covers back to kiss her head. And then he was yanking the blankets off of the bed.

"Doctor!"

He turned the lights back on. "What is this?" he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. "What happened to your face?"

She tried not to flinch. "Nothing."

"Nothing! You've a slash on your cheek, clear as anything! What happened?"

"It was nothing!" she started to say, but her voice broke again and she started to cry.

"Rose!" He put his arms around her and drew her up against his chest. She buried her head against his shoulder and cried, panicking him like nothing else had ever panicked him before. He pulled her away so he could get a good look at her. "What happened?" His gaze scanned her frantically, looking for more injuries. "Rose? What happened to you? Who hurt you?"

She managed to explain through her tears, and with each word she felt the Doctor grow more and more rigid.

"Could you identify him?"

She shook her head. "It was too dark. I barely saw his face."

He gently tipped her face to the side to examine the cut. "It doesn't look deep."

She sniffed and wiped her face with his shirttail. "It's not. I cleaned it up."

"I should never have left you on your own." His voice was full of the remorse and blame that he did so well.

"It could have happened anywhere. And it might have happened with you there."

He scoffed. "Doubtful. I'm so sorry, Rose. I promised to keep you safe."

"You did. You are." She leaned back against him, enjoying the feel of his chest. His hand came up and began to rub her back in slow circles.

They sat that way for a long time before he spoke again.

"Why did he run? If he had a knife, what made him change his mind?"

She took a deep breath and tilted her head so she could meet his eyes.

"Don't be mad."

He looked down at her in surprise. "Why would I be mad?"

She whispered the words so low he had to lean in close to hear them.

"It was Bad Wolf."


	43. Chapter 43

Thanks for all of your reviews and for being so patient with my inconsistent posting schedule. I'm soldiering on with this fic, have no fear.

* * *

Rose finally fell back asleep, eased into slumber as the Doctor gently rubbed her back and assured her everything was gong to be fine. He closed the bedroom door and walked out to the front room, where he stood with his hands in his pockets, looking out the windows for a long time.

His first impulse was to track down her attacker, track him down and make him very, very sorry that he had tried to hurt Rose. The likelihood of finding him was very low, though, and the Doctor knew it. So instead he sat down and carefully outlined a new plan of action. He would arrange to cut his teaching hours under the ruse of completing his dissertation. He'd be sure to be there in the morning to walk Rose to work, and he would be there without fail in the evening to make sure she got home safely. A thread of worry and panic grew in his chest, as he wondered why Bad Wolf had appeared.

He had taken the power of the Time Vortex out of Rose. He was sure of it - he had died to do it! Yet here Bad Wolf was, making an appearance where she should not have been.

But Bad Wolf was always where she shouldn't be, the Doctor reminded himself. A message scattered through time and space, jumping out at them when they least expected it.

What did she want? he asked himself uneasily. Why wouldn't she go away?

Rose did not speak of the attack the next morning. She'd refused to go to the police, and she wouldn't let him heal the cut with the sonic screwdriver before she went back to bed. The fact that the cut had vanished without a trace the next morning did nothing to ease the Doctor's worry. He tested her with various settings of the sonic screwdriver, but found no sign of anything out of the ordinary. It did not make him feel any better.

Two weeks later things had returned to normal. The Doctor's kisses were happy again, and he was not afraid to touch her at night when he joined her in her bed. For her part, Rose was relieved that he no longer treated her like a delicate doll. She put the attack behind her, determined to not let it affect her life any longer.

She was working longer hours as Christmas approached. The Doctor was on holiday break from Cambridge, and liked to sit in the shop's dressing area and read while he waited for Rose to be done for the night. Occasionally he would charm a difficult customer into making a sale, and Iris had suggested more than once that she should pay him a commission. The Doctor only laughed.

"Seriously, though," Rose said over dinner after such a day, "maybe we should hire you on as Christmas help."

The Doctor chuckled. "Perhaps if physics doesn't work out, eh?" He lifted his spoon to his mouth, splashing soup onto his trousers in the process.

"Damn," he said, wiping at the spot with a napkin. "That will stain. Quick! Do we have any club soda?"

Rose looked at him in exasperation. "You have all those nice suits hanging in the wardrobe! Why do you insist on wearing that one? It's going to fall apart on you." She reached out and touched the spot he was rubbing. He was maintaining the fabric with his sonic screwdriver but the suit was starting to show signs that it might fall apart despite his efforts.

He flashed her a hurt expression. "I love this suit. And I refuse to wear polyester."

"Doctor. Go change."

He frowned at her but went to do as she said, mostly because he loved his brown suit and wished to preserve it during their time here. Rose had secretly carried the jacket and trousers to a tailor on a rare day that he chose to wear something else to work. His Christmas gift was going to be four brand new suits in the same style, in varying shades of brown and blue. She couldn't wait to see his face.

There was a knock on the door, and Rose switched off the television and set her bowl of soup aside.

"Don't you answer that door without me!" the Doctor called from the bedroom.

She rolled her eyes and looked through the peephole.

"It's just Jeff," she called back, and unlocked the door.

"Just Jeff, eh?" their neighbor said wryly. "Thanks so much."

She grinned. "Come in."

The Doctor came around the corner, now attired in plain brown trousers and a white sweater and carrying his trousers in his hand. He pointed at her in accusation.

"Rose Tyler! Did you open that door?"

"It's just Jeff," she said reasonably. "No danger."

"You two are going to give me a complex," Jeff complained as he closed the door behind him. "Nice outfit," he added, gazing at Rose in appreciation. "Very much in the Christmas spirit."

She beamed at him as she struck a pose in her red hiphuggers and crisp white blouse. Her shirt was open at the neck, allowing a peek of her heart lock and key charms, and it fit her closely until it tucked into her trousers.

"Thanks!"

The Doctor made a great show of clearing his throat and all but yanked Rose up against his body as he put his arm around her.

"What can we do for you, Jeff?" he asked.

Rose kicked him lightly. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked, trying to make up for her beloved's rudeness.

"Another time, thanks. I've got dinner going in my flat. I just popped down to invite you to a Christmas party on Saturday at my place. Just a few people from the building and some mates of mine."

"Oh, we'd love to!" Rose said enthusiastically.

The Doctor sighed. "Love to," he echoed.

Rose stepped on his foot.

"Ow! What's that for?"

"Rude," she said bluntly. "What time, Jeff?"

"Come by around eight. I'll have some meat and things going."

"Can I bring anything?"

"Anything's welcome! See you then."

"What is wrong with you?" Rose demanded after she'd closed the door and locked it. "He wasn't doing anything to warrant your behavior."

The Doctor snorted. "Anytime he ogles you he warrants that behavior."

"He wasn't ogling. He thought my outfit was nice. Which is more than you've said tonight," Rose added with a dark look.

The Doctor leaned in close to her. "You're beautiful in those clothes." He traced the neckline of her shirt, making her shiver, as he drew her necklace out. He fingered the lock and key for a moment before gently tugging on the chain to bring her close enough to kiss. "And you're even more beautiful out of them."

* * *

The weekend was a welcome relief after the bustle of the holiday shopping season. Rose had been working such long hours that she heard the ring of the till in her sleep. On Saturday she popped in at the shop just to make sure the Saturday staff was handling things. They had it all under control and she only stayed an hour, helping a clueless husband pick something out for his wife and daughters. Her timing was good, since Iris arrived as she was leaving to watch over things for the rest of the day.

She and the Doctor did their food shopping afterwards, with intervals of taking care of their week's washing of clothes. The non-stop work was worth it to Rose, because it meant that Sunday could be spent relaxing with each other with no other worries.

She spent the late afternoon decorating the flat for Christmas with a small tree that fit on top of the television.

"That is the sorriest looking tree I have ever seen," the Doctor commented from the recliner, where he was eating a sandwich.

Rose stepped back and eyed the tree critically. "It is not."

"It's a crime against nature. Look at all the needles on the floor!"

Rose ignored him and tenderly placed a small plastic angel on top of the tree. It had bright yellow hair and wore a shiny white dress. Its wings were silver. The Doctor had groaned when Rose picked her out at Woolworths, but she thought the little doll had a lovely smile.

"Now for the final touch," she decreed, and opened a small package of tinsel. She tossed the silver strands at the tree, but most fell to the floor.

"I told you those branches weren't meant for decoration."

Rose ignored him with impressive calm as she picked up the tinsel and placed it by hand amongst the small ornaments.

It's lovely," she pronounced. She decided to ignore the few strands of tinsel still stuck in the pale yellow shag carpet.

The Doctor just ate his sandwich.

"Isn't it?" she pressed him.

"If I tell you what I really think will you get mad at me?"

"If you keep it up you'll find coal in your stocking," she warned him.

* * *

Just after eight o'clock that night they headed up to Jeff's flat. The door was partially open and they could hear Christmas music playing.

"Sounds like fun!" Rose whispered to the Doctor. "I hope no one complains about the noise."

They stepped inside to a sea of people. Jeff's flat had a larger floorplan than theirs, and most of the lounge was taken up with a console television, sofa and the largest turntable Rose had ever seen. A man with bright ginger hair beneath a Santa hat was flipping through a stack of records. Next to him were several young women, all offering advice on which song to play next.

"Rose!" Jeff called out. He came towards them as the crowd parted for him. "I'm glad you're here!" He waved his hand behind him. "Drinks in the kitchen! Snacks and things, too."

"Thanks!" Rose held up a tray. "I made cheese straws," she said proudly.

"Brilliant! Set them down and mingle! You should know lots of the people here - they're from the building and the neighborhood. Don't worry - I only invited coworkers I really like. Who needs lawyers to dull up a good party?" He laughed at his own joke. "Oh! I forgot to tell you. We're having a gift grab later," Jeff informed them before he moved on. "Winner for the worst gift."

"Oh!" Rose glanced after him. "We didn't bring anything."

"Have no fear," the Doctor assured her. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a fat grey elephant the size of his hand.

Rose laughed in delight. "Transdimensional pockets to the rescue!"

"And you say I shouldn't wear this suit too often." The Doctor stowed the elephant away for later and gave her a quick kiss. "I'll just go see what they have to drink."

"I'll meet you there. I'll just set these cheese straws down." Rose headed for the kitchen, which was almost half the size again of her own. The room was surprisingly cozy for a bachelor's flat. A wooden table set with chairs with bright red cushions was covered with trays of food. Rose set her cheese straws down beside a bowl of crisps. She swiped a crisp to munch on and went looking for the Doctor.

She spotted him in the corner, already in conversation with someone she didn't know. As she was heading his way someone moved in front of her.

"Billy!" she exclaimed in delight.

Billy Shipton smiled broadly. "Rose Tyler. Good to see you." He swept her up in a hug.

"I didn't know you'd be here!" Rose said breathlessly once he'd set her down.

"Jeff rang me up, said he wanted me to come by. I'd hoped you'd be here. I was planning on popping down to see you if you weren't."

"I'm glad you did. How are things?"

"Fancy a drink?" he asked instead, and led her to the makeshift bar. A pretty brunette was pouring drinks for the guests. By the look of her, and the splashes of liquid all around, she'd sampled some of the drinks herself, but no one was complaining.

"I'll just have a Coke," Rose said, reaching for a bottle.

Billy chose one as well, and picked up a bottle opener. He opened the one in his hand, handed it to her, took the one she'd picked up, and popped open the cap.

"Cheers," he grinned, toasting her before taking a sip.

Rose shook her head. "You're too much. Where have you been?"

Billy helped himself to a handful of nuts sitting beside the bottles of beer. "Here and there. Took a job filming a series for the telly here in London. Thinking of staying on there for a bit. It's been fun doing what I want. Police work was satisfying, but I've got a lot more freedom now."

"Are you...okay...with things?" she asked tentatively. "I mean, with being...you know, stuck here?"

Billy's mouth twisted. He shrugged. "Not got much choice in the matter, do I? I'm trying to make do."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Us, too." She brightened. "But you look great!" He was wearing dark brown trousers and a green sweater. The clothing was from this era, but he managed to set himself apart by the simple styling. "It's like you don't want to wear any of today's fashion trends," she added in a teasing voice.

Billy couldn't help but smile smugly. "Naturally. The key to looking good, Rose, is to wear what suits you. You wear the trends, the trends don't wear you."

Rose coughed and looked around the room. She happened to be wearing a short red dress and white court shoes. It was fully a trend from the holiday season, 1969, and although she knew she looked nice she felt strangely guilty about it.

Billy burst out laughing. "You look fabulous," he assured her. "In fact, I'm amazed the Doctor let you come out by yourself. I thought for sure he'd be by your side, glaring at any male who looks your way."

She smiled shyly. "He's here. He just knows there's nothing to be jealous of."

"Nothing to be jealous of?" he echoed. "Don't tell me that foolish man finally wised up to the beauty that was living right beneath his nose?"

Rose beamed. "Billy, I need you to come round every once in a while. You're good for my ego."

"You don't need any help there. But I'm glad things have worked out for you."

"There he is!" Jeff said from behind them. "Billy, mate, come over here. I've got a friend that's dying to meet you. I'll have him back to you in a bit, Rose! He's too brilliant to be left alone!"

"He is?" she asked in bewilderment.

Billy grinned.

"He's a genius!" Jeff told her before pulling Billy away. "He's got an eye for investments like you wouldn't believe!"

Rose caught Billy's eye. "Does he, really?"

"And you wouldn't believe his luck in picking the winners of the football matches," Jeff continued.

Rose raised her eyebrows.

"My dad liked to relive the matches of the old days," Billy said quietly. "Never hurts to use what you know, yeah?"

"I'll catch up with you later," she promised with a grin.

"Count on it!"

The Christmas music changed to a deep, throbbing melody that was like nothing Rose had ever heard before. It drew her over to the turntable, where the party's disk jockey was sitting on the floor, eating peanuts by the handful and drinking a beer.

"Hi," Rose greeted him. "What's that song you're playing? Is it the Beatles?"

The deejay shook his head and held up an album. "It's the Deep Tones' latest album."

"I don't know them."

"They're pretty good, aren't they? This song is called 'Bad Wolf'."

Rose's mouth turned dry. "Is it?"

To her immense relief, a hail of greeting rose up by the door. She turned to see Mrs. MacMurray enter the flat, resplendent in a cherry red caftan and a long pearl necklace.

Jeff swooped in to kiss her cheek. "At last! Have you come to join us or shut us down?" he asked with a grin.

The elderly landlady laughed. "I came for a bit of sherry. So nice to visit with you young people." She looked around at her various tenants and their friends. "Happy Christmas!"

Rose waved at her. "Happy Christmas!"

Jeff ushered Mrs. MacMurray over to the bar. Rose was glad to walk away from the Bad Wolf song and went looking for the Doctor, who had moved on to a conversation with a man that Rose recognized from the building. They were discussing the disappearances happening around their part of London, and they were gathering some attention from the partygoers.

"The police say they've got it covered, but it's only a matter of time before it happens again," the Doctor's conversational companion was saying. "I've lived here for a year and they're no closer to figuring things out. It's not safe anywhere, I tell you!"

His date, a slim blonde girl wearing bright green, hung from his arm. A necklace with red and green blinking lights hung around her neck.

"I'm afraid to go anywhere alone!" she said. "It's like Jack the Ripper is out there!"

Rose thought that was a bit much. So did several others. A few rolled their eyes before walking away.

"Don't be silly, Sue," a pretty brunette that Rose recognized as Kitty, the girl Jeff continued to pursue despite her lukewarm reception of him, said impatiently. "It's hardly the same thing."

The Doctor saw Rose and motioned her over to him. She snuggled close against him as he put his arm around her waist.

"I wouldn't put it on par with an alien serial killer," the Doctor interjected. "But something is happening around town."

There was a pause in the conversation as several people eyed the Doctor with looks ranging from confusion to suspicion.

"Even if some of them just moved on, there's no reason to think everyone has," the blonde's date agreed. "We're up to what, eighteen people gone missing from a twenty-mile radius these past two years."

The Doctor's face suddenly assumed a blank expression. He stared into space for a few seconds before turning to look at Rose.

"You were attacked," he stated without expression. "We didn't tell the police. He could have been the one responsible!"

The others reacted to that with alarming quickness.

"You were attacked?"

"When?"

"Why didn't you report it?"

Rose ignored the others' outbursts and stared at the Doctor. To report the incident would have meant explaining themselves, bringing the Doctor once again to the police's attention. Not to mention the possibility of Torchwood finding out, and the attacker being found and explaining that his knife had melted without reason.

But what if he'd been the one?

Slowly, Rose gave an abbreviated explanation to the fascinated audience. To her surprise, most were in agreement.

"It sounds like he just wanted to rob you," Kitty said. "You're lucky you were able to keep your bag. Did something spook him?"

Rose swallowed. "I think...I think he saw someone coming. He ran. I should have gone to the police but all I could think about was getting home."

"You could have run to the police call box that's down the road from your shop," Kitty continued. "But you were probably in the wrong direction and not thinking."

Rose nodded. "Yeah. The wrong direction." She did not tell them that she avoided any and all areas where police call boxes stood. The blue boxes were too much like the TARDIS, and she had quickly grown tired of thinking that each one was in fact that TARDIS, come to take them home.

The little group eventually broke up, leaving the Doctor standing with Rose.

"I am so, so stupid," he muttered as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Rose - he could have killed you."

"Not with Bad Wolf there," she murmured.

"He could have _meant_ to kill you! I should have reported him and gone looking for him. Why do I lose my head when it comes to you?"

Rose chuckled and leaned happily against his chest. "Because you're crazy about me?"

He smiled and kissed her. "Absolutely."

On the other side of the flat Mrs. MacMurray demanded a Scottish reel. The deejay frantically flipped through records, found one that worked, and set it on the player. Mrs. MacMurray kicked off her shoes, hiked her caftan up to her knees and started a complicated dance that made the younger partygoers' mouths drop open in awe.

"Oh, look!" Rose pulled away to watch. To her delight, one of Jeff's male guests stripped off his jacket and joined the older woman in the complex dance steps, to the claps and cheers of nearly everyone present.

"She moves pretty good for an older woman, eh?" Billy said from the Doctor's shoulder. "In our time she'd have plastic surgery, botox and dress like a femme fatale."

The Doctor smiled slightly. "Very possibly. How are you, Billy?"

"I'm good. And yourself?"

"I'm well, as is Rose." the Doctor eyed him closely. "All right. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You have a look in your eye, Billy. There's something you want to say to me."

"Yeah, there is."

"I'm ready."

"So, Doctor," Billy began. "Tell me something. I'm stuck in this new time for the rest of my life. I can try to accept it or not, but that's my reality. What about you?"

The Doctor frowned as he stared into his glass. "I don't know, Billy. I don't know when we get to leave. So far the timelines aren't telling me."

Billy stared at him. "You can tell what's going to happen? And when?"

"Honestly," the Doctor complained. "Do the words 'Time Lord' not mean anything to you?"

"So you can."

"Yes."

"Well, then tell me this." Billy's mind was racing. "What if I don't wait until that specific date to find Sally Sparrow? What if I look for her earlier? That will make things happen earlier, won't it?"

"You are not to go looking for Sally Sparrow," the Doctor said firmly, setting his glass down, taking Billy by the arms and looking at him hard. "You understand? Your timelines are crossed and linked in a very particular fashion, and if you go trying to alter that it can result in some very bad things."

"How bad?"

"Bad. Very. Very. Bad. The very fabric of space and time could be affected. That is a breach we cannot risk. Nor can you tell her the meaning of the list. She must discover that on her own."

Billy stepped back, shaken by the forbidding look on the Doctor's face.

"All right, mate. You've made your point."

"You will see Sally Sparrow again," the Doctor added for good measure. "Just once."

"All right, then." Billy tried to make the best of the situation. "It's good to plan ahead. When will I see her again?"

The Doctor sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"On the day you die."

The party continued on. Mrs. MacMurray retired to her flat after several sherries and four Scottish dances. Someone from the building won the worst gift of the night with a contribution of a wooden statue in the shape of a fuzzy bear standing on hind legs and baring very sharp teeth and holding a tiny pointed sword.

Billy tried to enjoy himself but all he could think about was the day he was going to die. It didn't help that the Doctor had assured him it would not be for a long time. He could do the sums - he knew exactly how old he would be on that day in 2007. It didn't make him feel any better that he would be doing his part to help the Doctor and Rose. What about him?

"Billy looks like someone just ran over his dog," Jeff commented as he took a sip of his drink. "He all right?"

Rose turned around. "I don't know. I'll talk to you later." She caught up to Billy as he crossed the room.

"Hey! You okay?"

"Yeah," Billy muttered. "I need a drink."

"Okay," Rose said uncertainly.

Billy paused as he moved away from her, turning to face Rose.

"I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you can live with that, day after day."

"Live with what?"

"With him." Billy pointed across the room. "With the knowledge that he has."

Rose knew he was referring to the Doctor, but she turned to follow the direction of his pointing finger. When she turned back to face Billy, he was gone.

He really should head home, but he decided to have a beer instead. He went looking for a bite to eat along with his bottle, and he made his way into the kitchen, where he stood surveying the offerings on hand. Several plates and bowls had been picked over, but there was still a nice variety of food to choose from.

"I wondered if you'd be here tonight," a woman said. "I didn't see any of your chicken sticks."

Billy turned around slowly. Standing beside him was the blonde woman he'd met during the moon landing transmission party, nearly five months before.

"Satay sticks," he corrected her. "I didn't bring any tonight. It was a last minute thing."

"That's disappointing, Billy." She pulled a face. "I rather fancied them."

"Maybe I could make you some," he offered with a raised eyebrow, secretly delighted that she'd remembered his name.

"Not right now, surely?" She glanced around the kitchen.

He chuckled. "No. But maybe...sometime? Sometime soon?"

She tilted her head. "With the special peanut sauce?"

"Of course." Billy paused as he recalled something she'd said back in July. "What are you doing here? I thought you didn't know Jeff?"

"The host? I don't know him, not really. I came with the same friend again. She's always after me to get out more."

His future suddenly didn't seem so bleak and pointless. "I can help you with that. How about sometime in the next week? I can introduce you to some delicious cuisine."

A slow smile crossed her face. She pulled a crumbled piece of paper and a pen out of her handbag and scribbled something on it. She handed it to Billy and started to walk away. "You can call me. Maybe I'll be free."

He glanced at the name and number on the paper and looked up, confused.

"I thought your name was Sarah?"

She paused on her way out of the kitchen. "It is."

It was rare that Billy Shipton found himself confused. "But this isn't..."

She smiled, the dimple appearing in her cheek. "My friends call me Sally."


	44. Chapter 44

Thanks for all of your reads and reviews! It's amazing how easy it is to see something unfold in your mind, and how difficult it is to find the time and patience to type it out on a keyboard until it looks the way you imagined. I hope you enjoy this update.

* * *

Rose stared up at the large house, taking in the weathered stone, garland at the doors and windows, and smoke emerging from all the chimneys. There was not a single sign of the building's true function apart from a discreet sign by the door that read Forth Hall.

"This must have been a beautiful house. I can't believe it's been turned into a banquet hall."

The Doctor took her hand and helped her up the steps. "Many old families eventually die out. Or lose all their money." He pushed open the massive wooden doors and ushered her inside. They stepped into a hallway with a black and white checkered marble floor. A sparkling chandelier hung from the ceiling and there were fresh red and white flowers in crystal vases on all the surfaces.

"This is gorgeous!" Rose said in awe. "Oh! Look at the portraits!" She pointed to the wall opposite, which was hung with two portraits. One was of a man, the other of a woman, both in what she thought was Regency-era clothing.

The Doctor moved closer and squinted at the portraits, putting his glasses on to do so. Then he looked around at the walls and the wide wooden staircase curving up to the next floor.

"Do you know," he said in a surprised voice, "I think I've been here before."

"Yeah?" Rose asked absently, looking all around.

"I'm pretty sure I played cards here with the Prince of Wales back in 1805." He bent down to peer at the wainscoting lining the walls. "I won twelve guineas that night playing faro."

"You don't say." Rose wasn't really listening.

Her tone of voice made it clear she wasn't that interested. The Doctor put his glasses away. "Anyway! That's all in the past now. Obviously. Those are the former owners of the house," he couldn't help adding, gesturing to the portraits. "Lord and Lady Forthright. It's a shame what happened to them."

He paused, clearly baiting Rose to ask what had happened. She was considering it, just to make him happy, when they heard footsteps on the marble floor. A man was walking toward them, holding a glass of clear liquid in one hand and a smoking cigar in the other. He looked delighted to see them.

"Smith! Decided to come after all, eh?"

"Hello, Roger! Here we are. This is Rose. Rose, Roger."

Rose smiled at the older man. He was wearing a staid blue suit with a tie patterned with bright red bells, an incongruous combination. With his grey hair he might almost have been a slender Father Christmas, if not for the fat cigar he was puffing on as he looked at Rose.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"And you, my dear. And you. You're even lovelier than your photograph. Go right on into the ballroom. Festivities are underway and the champagne is flowing! I'm just off to, er, see to business." He gave them both a nod and continued walking down the hallway, where a discreet sign pointed to the washrooms.

"He seems nice," Rose commented, eyeing the cigar smoke that followed him down the hall. She wondered where he would put the cigar while he used the washroom.

"Yes. A bit pompous sometimes, but harmless." They came upon the coat closet, and the Doctor reluctantly removed his coat and hung it up. He was wearing his brown suit for the occasion. "Rose?"

She let him help her take her coat off and watched as he carefully hung it up beside his own.

"Yes?"

The Doctor paused to admire her. She was wearing a dark red dress with elbow-length sleeves, a boat-neck top and a full skirt that fell to her knees. It was demure and classic, and even though he privately preferred her in the bright colors and short skirts she used to favor, he thought she was stunning. Her blonde hair was twisted up and away from her face, showing off the dark red drops in her ears.

"I really just want to show you off," the Doctor confided. "You're beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"What do you mean, 'sure'? You're gorgeous." He offered her his arm.

She took his arm and smiled up at him. "Thanks. And you are looking very handsome." She patted the lapel of his jacket for emphasis.

She could have sworn he blushed, just a bit.

The party was being held in the home's former ballroom. People stood about in small groups, chatting and laughing. In one corner was a bar of shining mahogany, staffed by smiling men in black tie. In another corner was a small band of twelve musicians, playing Christmas songs and classical melodies. Tables marched along one wall, covered with bright white cloths and silver trays of food. Smaller round tables covered with the same white cloth were placed around the edges of the dance floor. Some had people seated at them, drinking and eating.

Rose was surprised by the number of people. "Is this just your department? I didn't think it was this big."

"I think other departments added themselves," he admitted. "Cheaper on the fees to go in all together. Once the other chairs caught wind of it, it was rather hard to stop them. I suppose no one wanted another boring holiday party in the staff lounge."

"Well, the more the merrier, right?"

"Oh, yes. Let's just hope the English department is better versed than the scientists at having a good time. Otherwise things will be a bit dull."

Rose touched a pretty potted plant as they walked to the bar. "Will I meet everyone you work with, then?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, most of them. Some have already left town for the holidays." There was an odd note in his voice that Rose didn't recognize. She turned her head to look at him quizzically, but at that moment they reached the bar and the Doctor was already smiling at the closest bartender. "A soda water, please. Rose?"

"Just a Coke, thanks," she said, and accepted a glass.

They stood together, sipping their drinks and looking around.

"I had my doubts about this one," Rose admitted, "but it looks like it might be fun." She gestured to the dance floor, where a young girl in hot pink was dancing with a man whose sideburns were even longer than the Doctor's.

The Doctor grinned at her. "Fancy a spin around the dance floor?"

"As soon as I eat something. I'm starving!"

He set his glass down quickly. "I'll get you a plate." He moved off in the direction of the food. Rose was irresistibly drawn to the music and took a step closer to the band.

"Hello! I don't think we've met. Are you one of the secretaries?"

Not for the first time, Rose wished that the woman's movement would hurry up and set itself into motion. Before arriving in this time period she'd never once been mistaken for office help. She fixed a smile on her face and turned to look at the man speaking to her. He was young and clearly had had too much to drink, but his smile was friendly enough. Rose pegged him as one of the more trendy types. His suit had wide lapels and his sideburns were long, and his hair was much shaggier than the older men milling about the room.

"No," she stated firmly. "No, I'm not."

"What, from the typing pool, then?"

She stared at the man with a mixture of outrage and amazement. "I'm a guest," she said coldly. The tone of her voice was something she had picked up from Iris to express extreme displeasure. She was very glad to use it now.

His grin grew larger. "Yeah? Who are you with? Someone I can pry you away from, I hope."

Really, men were just unbelievable in this time! Did he think all he had to do was smile at her and she'd leave with him? "I'm Rose Tyler," she responded, biting her tongue to avoid saying something rude.

He looked thoughtful, then confused. "I don't know any Tylers." Rose began to suspect he'd had a bit too much to drink.

"Don't be an idiot, Jerry," someone said sharply, elbowing him out of the way. "Didn't you see her with Smith just now?"

"Oh! Smith!" It dawned on Jerry and he looked alarmed. "I say, you won't mention this to him, will you? He's always spoken of you like, that is..." His voice trailed off as he considered what the Doctor might do.

"Smith would have his hide if he knew you were being bothered," the second man finished for him. "Go away, Jerry. Stay away from the bar."

"Yes, yes I will," Jerry said in relief, and hurried off.

Rose scowled after him before turning to smile at her rescuer. "Thanks. He wasn't exactly taking a hint."

"You're welcome. He's harmless, but sometimes he puts his foot in his mouth and can't get it out again." He held out his hand. "Ian Chesterton."

She held out her own. "I'm Rose."

"I must apologize for my young colleague. He's a product of his time, and the men of today aren't always as courteous as they ought to be."

Rose smiled wryly. "I know that all too well," she said ruefully, recalling various catcalls and rude comments she'd heard on the streets of London.

"In any case, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Your Smith doesn't like to talk, but I have seen the snap of you that he keeps on his desk."

"He doesn't like to talk?" Rose echoed. Were they talking about the same man?

"I don't think I've ever heard him say more than two sentences, but he's a good chap. Not that I need to tell you, eh?"

Rose looked around the room until she found the Doctor. He was facing her on the other side of the room, holding a plate and carrying on a conversation with a man wearing a dark green suit that Rose suspected was velvet. He looked to be thoroughly enjoying himself, so instead of scowling at him when he met her glance, she only smiled and gave a tiny wave. He smiled back, but as he looked at her his expression changed, going from happy to...Rose didn't know what it was. Shock? Unease?

She nodded encouragingly to show that she was just fine on her own. He smiled back, but he still looked unsettled. As he turned to answer something his companion said, Rose resolved to find out what was wrong the next time they spoke. Having decided on that, she turned her attention back to Ian.

"He has his moments," she admitted.

"Of course I'm sure he's a different fellow when he's not teaching," Ian allowed. "Have you met Henry and Tom?"

With an enviable ease, Ian steered her towards some of his colleagues, and they were welcomed into the circle of scientists, English literature professors and their spouses.

It was nice just to listen to the conversation. Everyone was in a jovial mood and for once she did not feel inadequate because of her lack of education. Rose nodded occasionally but her attention was caught by a woman standing in another group of people a few feet away. She was an attractive brunette with hair pulled back in a French twist. She wore a simple black dress and pearls, but it was her manner that Rose found fascinating. In one hand the woman held a glass from which she occasionally sipped. The expression on her face was impassive, and occasionally she would smile. Rose was wondering who the woman was when she heard her own name.

"Sorry?" she asked, turning back to the rest of the group.

"We were just asking saying what a shame you hadn't found a flat in Cambridge yet," said the man who'd introduced himself as Henry. "It's such a long commute for your husband." Henry was in his forties and wearing a dark suit that did not quite button over his stomach.

"You ought to try harder to get out of London," Henry's wife added from his elbow. She was as plump as her husband, but her dress fit her better than his suit fit him.

"We like London," Rose replied.

"Well, of course you do," Henry's wife said with a tone of condescension that Rose instantly took exception to. "But really, with your husband at the university and you at home, you might as well be closer to Cambridge."

"Oh, I have a job in London," Rose corrected her. "I had it before the, before he came to Cambridge."

It was as if she'd confessed to being a kicker of puppies. The group around her grew quiet as they all gazed at her. With a sigh, Rose recalled that this was most likely a conservative bunch who thought a woman's place was in the home.

"Well, it's not like they have any children yet," a man muttered finally. "I suppose it keeps her busy."

Rose's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to issue a blistering comeback, but someone beat her to it.

"Mrs. Smith is entitled to do as she pleases without our input," someone from the English department said, albeit with a hint of disapproval. "Smith isn't exactly the most conventional chap, is he?"

"Tyler," Rose said before she could stop herself. "My name is Tyler."

More shocked looks, and this time people looked uncomfortable. Rose was _really _anxious for the women's movement to kick in.

"Honestly, for educated men and women you are all being very close-minded." The attractive brunette had joined them, and she laughed as she shook her head at them. "There is so much more to life than the word you know." She smiled at Rose. "I for one am pleased to meet a woman with outside interests."

There was a moment's uncomfortable silence as they stared at the newcomer, and then everyone made excuses and started to drift away. Rose thought one of the men muttered, "Of course _she_ would think so." as he left.

The brunette's face briefly creased with annoyance before she looked back at Rose. "You mustn't mind them. Old women, the lot of them."

Rose laughed, so grateful to have met someone who didn't think she was a freak of nature.

"Thanks. I hope I didn't make things harder for the...for them. Or my husband." She added the last part hesitantly, and only because that seemed to be the assumption of everyone she'd met. She still wasn't sure whether he knew that they were supposed to be married.

"Don't worry about them." Ian smiled at Rose and proceeded to slide his arm around the brunette's waist. "Where have you been hiding, my dear?" he asked, bending down to kiss the brunette's cheek.

"Just listening to all the gossip," she said lightly.

"Where are my manners? This is my wife, Barbara," Ian said to Rose. "This is Rose Smith. Er, Tyler."

"Hello." Ian's wife smiled a kind smile and shook Rose's hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Rose said truthfully.

"Have you mentioned a Mr. Smith to me?" Barbara asked her husband.

"In passing, I'm sure. He's the quiet one."

Barbara nodded in recognition and Rose was left to frown in confusion. Surely there were two Smiths in the department? There didn't seem to be a smooth way to ask that, though, and they were joined by more of Ian's colleagues before she could think of a way to frame her words.

As the men spoke Barbara turned to Rose. "You really mustn't let others make you feel wrong for your choices. I know it isn't easy these days. I myself am one of those professional women, you know. I've taken a sabbatical for the year, but I haven't forgotten what it's like to be a woman in the workforce."

"Are you espousing unpopular beliefs again?" Ian asked lightly.

Barbara shrugged easily. "Every chance I get. Some people can't see progress when it's getting ready to slap them in the face."

"It shouldn't be this difficult for women to do what they want," Rose complained. "Honestly, sometimes it's like we're living in the dark ages!" She bit her lip as she realized what she was saying. She knew what the future was like- this woman only knew this time and place, and while times were changing, they weren't changing very fast.

Ian and Barbara shared a quick, amused glance.

"Times have changed since then," Ian agreed with a small grin. "But we'll just carry on and wait for the rest of the world to catch up to us."

"There you are, Rose." The Doctor came over and took her hand. "What have you been doing?" He glanced quickly at her companions and then away again.

"Hello, Smith! I've been chatting with your Rose. Allow me to introduce my wife."

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Barbara."

He stared at her with is mouth slightly open. Rose didn't blame him - Barbara's dark features were beautiful. "Yes," the Doctor said. "Yes. Yes. Ian's wife. Of course." He took her hand and shook it before dropping his hand away, his eyes briefly meeting hers and then sliding away.

"Ian has spoken of you a few times." Barbara gave him a friendly smile.

"Yes. He's a good man," the Doctor said automatically.

"I wish I could say the same," Rose said reproachfully. "I've heard many of the names tonight, but I don't think he's ever mentioned Ian."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "There are so many things going on at work," he muttered. "I thought you were out of town this week and next?" he asked Ian, his voice pitched just slightly higher than usual.

"Our plans have changed," Ian replied. "The in-laws decided to come to us, instead, and insisted we come out for a few hours."

"Our son is cutting a few new teeth, and we knew that travel with him would be awful," Barbara said. She turned to Rose. "He's seven months."

Rose nodded. "I've heard that can be painful. What's his name?"

Barbara smiled. "John." She opened up her pocketbook and handed Rose a picture. It was a black and white snap of an infant.

"He's gorgeous," Rose said.

"Thank you." Barbara put her picture away.

"He's a very handsome boy," Ian agreed. "And one that is hopefully fast asleep. Shall we dance, my dear, while we can?"

"Oh, yes! I hope to see you again soon, Rose. Nice meeting you," Barbara said over her shoulder as Ian ushered her away.

The Doctor let out a deep breath as they walked away.

Rose looked at him in puzzlement. He hadn't been overly friendly, he hadn't been rude. He'd just been...weird.

"Do you get along with him?" she asked.

He started. "With Ian? Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"He said - " She shook her head. "No reason. Would you dance with me?"

His face lit up with a grin. "I'd love to."

She thought about asking him if they were meant to be a married couple to his colleagues. But it felt so nice to feel his arms wrapped around her as they swayed to the music, so she decided to leave it for another time.

The Doctor held Rose close, reveling in the feel of her in his arms. How long had he wanted to do exactly this and never found the courage to do it? What an idiot he'd been. For a brilliant man he could be quite thick sometimes.

Rose snuggled in closer. A strange, unfamiliar feeling stole over him. He thought it was happiness.

* * *

It wasn't often Rose had free time lately. Christmas was just ten days away, and she was at the shop more often than she was home. The Doctor saw her off to work on Saturday morning and spent his free time planning out the afternoon. He ran out to pick up a few items for dinner once he'd seen her safely inside the shop. He thought he'd beat her back home, but he was distracted by all the Christmas decorations and gift possibilities, and he arrived back at the flat to find her seated at the kitchen table.

"You're back!" he said happily, dumping his shopping bag on the counter. Tins spilled out haphazardly, and he caught an apple before it spun off onto the floor. "What are you doing?"

"I only stared for an hour to make sure the holiday help had things under control. I'm writing out Christmas cards."

He stared at Rose in utter confusion. "What?"

She held up a bright red piece of paper. "Christmas cards! I'm sending out our Christmas greetings!"

"You're sending out...to who?" he asked in amazement.

"To everyone! Billy and Jeff, and Iris. Nancy, of course! And look!" She waved another card at him, and the Doctor stepped closer to take it. "It's from Kathy Costello. Sally Sparrow's friend, remember?"

"Kathy," he echoed, opening it up. "Of course. Kathy from Hull." Kathy had written a friendly greeting to them, asking them to keep in touch and enjoy their stay in the past.

"People send out Christmas cards all the time. I thought it'd be fun." She handed him one that she'd already filled out. She'd signed it "Love, Rose and the Doctor." He stared at their names together for a long moment.

"I know what you're thinking," Rose said when he didn't respond. "It's all really, really domestic, and I know you hate that, but -"

"I love it," he interrupted her.

"You do?" Her voice rose in surprise.

"Yeah. I do." He gave her a slow smile, one that lit up his face but also made him look shy and very young. "I do."

The look in his eye made her stomach do a pleasant little flip. "Good."

"Let's finish these up," he suggested. "I'm making you dinner and then we're going out."

"We are? Where?"

"Just a walk. A walk through the snow." The Doctor stood up and began moving pots and pans about.

"A walk through the snow?" she repeated.

"A walk through the snow. Is that alright?"

It was sweet and romantic and the loveliest thing she'd ever heard.

"It's sounds wonderful," Rose told him. "I can't wait."

* * *

That Christmas morning was a time Rose would never forget. Her childhood with Jackie had called for modest gifts, time with family, and usually some argument breaking out among the adults. The last time she'd had so much fun was the Christmas dinner they'd spent with Jackie and Mickey after defeating the Sycorax. The Doctor had been a brand new man, younger and handsome and _happy_, and she hadn't been able to stop sneaking glances at him.

It was even better today, because they'd come so far from that Christmas.

The Doctor couldn't wait for her to wake up. "Rose! Father Christmas came!"

She rolled over in bed and opened one sleepy eye. "What?"

"It's Christmas! Come on!" He knelt beside her and pulled the covers off, urging her up.

She groaned but stood up, blearily accepting his help in tying the belt to her pink fuzzy dressing gown. The Doctor was wearing the pajama pants and long-sleeved shirt he'd put on after their walk last night, and he looked as well-rested as always.

"What time is it?" she mumbled as he ushered her out of the room.

"Morning," he said evasively. "Here's some tea!"

"Oh, _thank_ you," she murmured gratefully, and happily sat down on the sofa while she watched the Doctor turn the Christmas lights on.

"That's better," he said in satisfaction.

Together they looked around the room. Lights were strung up along the wall, and a very short strand of them was wrapped around the Christmas tree. The little plastic angel wobbled on top, and a small stack of wrapped parcels sat on the floor beneath the tree. Fastened to the top of the television, hanging down over the screen, were their Christmas stockings, a red one for Rose and a blue one for the Doctor. She'd filled his with sweets the night before. She saw chocolates and what looked like lipsticks and nail varnish in her own.

"Here you are." The Doctor dropped a package in Rose's lap. It was covered in shiny red paper and topped with a lopsided green bow. "Happy Christmas."

"Thank you." She set aside her tea and opened it to find a hat, scarf and mittens set in bright red. "This is so pretty!" She put the hat on her head. "And so soft!"

"It's cashmere," he explained. "I know how cold it gets in the morning. I want you to be nice and warm."

"Thank you, Doctor. I love it." She leaned forward and kissed him. In response he wrapped the scarf around her neck while she laughed.

There were other gifts, from him and from her, but Rose grew more and more anxious until they'd unwrapped the last one.

"I have one more thing for you," she said, biting her lip.

He looked around the room, which was now covered in paper. "You couldn't possibly."

That made her laugh. "Just one more! Well. I say one more. Maybe two or three more. Wait right there!" She nipped out of the room as he sat there, wearing the brightly striped scarf she'd gotten him after he'd mentioned having one a long, long time ago.

She came back into the room carrying a large white box. He immediately jumped up and took it from her.

"You shouldn't be carrying something so heavy," he said reproachfully. "How did you get this home?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not that heavy. Set it down and open it."

"What is it?"

"You'll see," she smiled, and wiggled in anticipation.

He threw her a look of amusement, but set the box on the floor, undid the red bow, and lifted the lid. After sifting through several layers of tissue paper, he came upon a piece of fabric.

"Did you buy me a flag?" he wanted to know, lifting it out of the box. As he unfurled it, the amusement left his face. He silently took in the brown material with the thin blue stripes, the blue lining, the buttons. He looked from the jacket to Rose, a question in his eyes.

"Yours isn't going to last forever. You've been worrying about what the cleaning is doing to it, so...I thought I'd order you another suit. It's copied on yours, exactly! The tailor did a great job, don't you think? It took six weeks just to find the right material." He continued to gaze at the jacket. Rose took a deep breath. "I ordered two of the brown ones. And I picked out one more. It's on the bottom."

He set down the jacket and rummaged through the box, coming out with a blue jacket. There was a thin red stripe running through it, and the lining was red.

"That was my choice," Rose continued on, feeling more nervous by the moment. "I thought some red trainers would look - Doctor, _say_ something!" she finally burst out.

He set down the suit jacket and looked up at her with shining eyes.

"Rose. I love them. Thank you so much."

She let out her breath in relief. "You do?"

He quickly got to his feet to gather her up in a hug. "They're wonderful. I love them. I love _you_," he said fiercely into her hair. "I don't deserve you, Rose, not at all."

She clung to him, content to let him kiss her mouth, her hair, her neck.

"You do," she whispered. "You do."


End file.
